


Speak Now

by Eternalxblossom



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Imagine Me and You Vibes, Internal Monologue, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-02-10 14:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 133,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternalxblossom/pseuds/Eternalxblossom
Summary: Bea needs a plus-one for Franky and Bridget’s wedding. Because she turns down every man Franky has in mind for her, the brunette gets frustrated and more or less sets her up with the flower girl.(A Ballie story with Fridget as secondary pairing and a lot of Franky Doyle being Franky Doyle because we all need that in our lives)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This idea popped into my head whilst working on a wedding fic for my other OTP and I just had to get it somewhere. The rain pouring outside also put me into a serious writing mood. This is very different from “Labels” but I hope you enjoy it. :)

Franky was tapping a pencil to her chin impatiently, checking her wristwatch for the millionth time, as she chewed on her gum a bit too loudly. If anyone was in her proximity, she was pretty sure they’d ask her to tone it down (and not very politely). Luckily, it was just her, chilling in the office out back, with her feet up on the desk like no one’s business, ruffling some paperwork she really wasn’t in the mood to look over. Taxes? Invoices? Who the hell came up with _that_ stupidsystem again?

Oh, right, capitalism. The sweet joys of the free market. 

Only half an hour left and she could finally leave work, she thought, exhaling less heavily than a few agonizing hours earlier, but still bored out of her skull, judging by her pouted lips and faraway expression. Least her not so professional stance right now was _one_ perk of being the boss that she could enjoy. It did compensate for the other super boring parts of the job, even if just a little.

Sure, it was nice to say it, to shove it in people’s faces if nothing else – Franky Doyle, restaurant owner _and_ general manager, but she was also not the kind of boss to leave early just because she held the grand title that allowed her to do so without repercussions.

Another, more believable excuse would have been – _I’m getting hitched, I’m busy_. No one would go against that. In fact, everyone around her, from employees to close friends was even more ecstatic than her when she broke the news of the upcoming, blessed event, shedding a healing light upon her only recently put together life.

To this day, she had no clue how she got the job _and_ the house and the girl, given her not so fortunate past and previous history, relationship-wise. She also didn’t have the slightest clue which Gods she pleased in a previous life to ever land a woman like Bridget Westfall in her corner – refined, elegant, sophisticated, both in appearance and in speech. Everything she wasn’t - brash, loud, impulsive, _those_ attributes defined her.

They were like salt and pepper. But maybe opposites did attract after all – and Bridget saw so much more in her than she ever did, even when she was at the lowest point on the moral scale of the world. For that, she could only be thankful and she couldn’t wait for the rest of their lives to start.

Her thoughts were so domestic right now she could have punched herself square in the face, if she wasn’t too busy acting giddy like a school girl. She only did that when no one saw her, of course.

But her previous thoughts and the images they brought in her mind still made her all warm inside, smiling like a moron every single time she glanced at the polished, elegant ring gracing her finger, like it belonged there - a beautiful reminder of how far she’s come, how far they’ve come, a reminder that this was actually real, it was happening to _her_ , a cherished token she was gazing at no less than 50 times a day, to be exact.

Not that she’d ever tell Gidge that.By all intents and purposes, _she_ was supposed to be the badass in the relationship, not the softie - and she took that self-designated role very seriously. It would ruin their whole bloody dynamic if she didn't. She couldn’t have that.

When the final minutes of her work day passed – painstakingly slow, at that -  Franky closed up and grabbed her car keys, before crossing the sidewalk, yawning. She wasn’t supposed to see Bea for another 20 minutes, so she settled for grabbing two coffees on the way before she drove to their scheduled meeting spot.

Knowing Red, she’d probably need it just as much as her. She had to be just about done with her shift at the salon too by now – and if she had even half the clientele she usually did during full wedding season, then she’d most definitely need it. Red was almost as cranky as her without that much needed daily dose of caffeine. If she didn’t fill that specific quota, all hell broke lose – and you didn’t want to get in between that crossfire.

She couldn’t take any risks – she barely, and begrudgingly so, convinced Red to join her on some wedding errands she needed to run. Given that her best friend was also maid of honor, Bea couldn’t tell her to piss off – and she used that pretext every single time she could. Let’s call it a bargaining chip. Franky took full advantage of it – you never knew when the opportunity would arise again. If ever.

There was no one else she’d bestow that privilege upon in a lifetime - that of being her right-hand woman, of course. Bea was anything but a fan of weddings but they had history, she’d never say no to the offer. As expected, she didn’t.

But Franky also knew she needed to be wary of asking too many favors from a sleep-deprived Bea. Thankfully, their first errand shouldn’t be too tiring – all they needed to do was check up on some floral arrangements. She needed Bea as her extra set of eyes today.

As she waited on the other side facing the shop whilst taking large sips of her coffee, she started playing with her ring again, unconsciously. Fuck, she loved that thing. Scratch that, she loved the woman who gave it to her _more._

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” – a smirking Bea greeted from behind her, causing Franky to nearly choke on her coffee and spill it all over herself, as she was pulled from her pleasant daydream a little too harshly for her liking. In response, her hazel-green eyes shot daggers in her best friend’s direction.

“Fuck’s sake, Red, in Sydney we wave first.” – she snapped, her usual snark as intact as her signature eyeliner.

“Yeah, whatever.” – Bea waved her hand around dismissively, completely ignoring her, her eyes settling on the paper cup holder Franky was carrying. “That for me?”

“You know it.” – the brunette answered, neutrally, no hint of the previous fire in her voice, handing Red her steamy cup of coffee. When the latter let out an audible, pleasant moan as she drunk the heavenly sent liquid, Franky couldn’t help but take her usual smirk and shit-eating grin ten notches up.

“You know, I can do a better job than that coffee—“

“Jesus, Franky.” – Bea rolled her eyes, flushing just a little. She was used to Franky hitting on her constantly but it still took her aback sometimes. “So, I’m here, what'd ya need me for, again?”

“Anything you want, babe.”

This time, Bea snickered, rolling her eyes even more.

“Oh come on, Red, you’re just making it too easy on me.”

She was suddenly looking at her idiot best friend like she didn’t understand _something._ Not a moment later, she voiced that confusion in her head.

“How can anyone see you do…” – she pointed at Franky’s frame, incredulously. “You..and think – yeah, I would _loooove_ to put a ring on that?”

“I’ll have you know plenty of women still find me charming, especially with _this_ on my finger.”– the tattooed woman chuckled, no offense taken, sipping the last drops of her coffee, before throwing the paper cup carelessly in a nearby trashcan. Bea reluctantly trailed along beside her, like the lost puppy she was.

“And first stop is flowers.” – Franky specified, dutifully. “It’s just down the street.”

“Seriously, the cheesiest part of a wedding?” – Bea asked, blinking once or twice, hoping she hadn't heard her right. “And you ask _me_ to come with you, of all people? You’ve gotta be kidding--”

“You’re my maid of honor, stop whining.” – Franky replied, linking her arm around Bea’s and bumping her shoulder as she did. “Also, spoiler alert - the cheesiest part is gonna be the vows, just you wait.”

“Ugh, gag me.” – Bea grumbled even more, using her index finger to feign a gag reflex.

Franky merely laughed, ignoring everything Killjoy Bea shot at her from her seemingly endless arsenal of complaints.

She was too happy to care about any of that today but the ring resting on her finger, like a security blanket. If her best friend was in her head right now, hearing even a tenth of her thoughts, she’d probably combust.

“We’re here.” –  Franky announced, as Bea inched her eyes upwards, instinctively.

The place seemed a tad too large and fancy compared to her idea of a usual flower shop but she could tell it was elegant and put together, judging by the classy window display and the stylish, cursive letters adorning it. That, and, for some reason, the place seemed to have a homey vibe to it, something inviting that drew you in.

As Bea walked in with Franky trailing close behind, she started to look around, curiously, like a child in a toy store. There were floral arrangements everywhere, alongside wedding magazines, artwork and refined decorations, giving the shop a cozy, yet sophisticated look at the same time.

She was snapped out of her fascinated, almost enthralled staring by the sound of a beautiful voice echoing from behind her.

“Sure, it will be delivered at 12:00 PM stat, no delays. Yes, the center pieces too. Alright, talk to you later.”

On impulse, her head jerked in the opposite direction, almost too swiftly and Franky merely raised a teasing eyebrow at her, clearly amused. The brunette followed her jumpy friend’s stare until they were both faced with the image of a chirpy blonde, scribbling the last remains of some notes in her agenda, before hanging up on her previous caller.

“Why, hello there.” – she greeted, casually and excitedly at the same time, recognizing Franky’s tattoos from a mile away, even when fully engulfed in another conversation.

It was then that she noticed the brunette had company…or better yet, _she_ had company, too.

Her gaze instantly settled on the brown-eyed woman standing next to Franky, shifting her weight from one leg to another almost awkwardly and she felt her throat dry out on the spot and her heart rate speed up. She licked her lips nervously, clutching onto the pen she just used to write a bit too hard, as she opened her mouth to say something, _anything_. But she suddenly couldn’t remember a single word. Or even her own name. What was today’s date, again? What was she even writing?

Thankfully, the usually loud and brash, now also smirking and all-knowing tattooed woman did the job for her.

“Red, this is Allie, the _finest_ flower girl in all of Sydney, if you know what I mean.” – she introduced her to the stunning redhead she just spent half a minute gawking at in true Franky fashion – with a deliberate drop in tone and batting her eyelashes. Allie was too busy feeling like junior prom all over again with all the jitters taking over her body to even register the brunette’s lame attempt at flirting.

Fortunately, Franky’s much quieter, composed and _gorgeous_ companion, if you’d ask the enchanted blonde, didn’t seem to notice a single thing about her inner struggle.

“Don’t mind her, she’s getting married—“

If Allie was nervous before, adding a voice to the alluring beauty before her only made it worse. A very raspy and sexy voice, if you’d ask her. The flower girl eventually cleared her throat and gave herself a pep talk to woman the hell up, dropping the pen on the desk, unceremoniously.

Not that she even cared about that. Not even the slightest bit.

“Yeah, I kinda figured that part out, lovely.”  - Allie laughed, earning a soft smile from the redhead before her.

Bea also cleared her throat, shyly, unconsciously gripping her coffee cup like a lifeline. What both of them failed to notice was Franky contemplating the weird, yet equally charged staring contest going on between them like she knew _something_ they didn’t. She bit her bottom lip to stop all the smartass remarks she probably had in her mind, ready to fire at any point.

As luck would have it, for once, the brunette stayed quiet – but only because she wanted to see the events unfold.

“Hi, I’m Allie. Allie Novak, nice to meet you.” – the younger woman introduced herself, extending her hand politely. She just hoped that it wasn’t too clammy. It suddenly felt too warm in this room and she knew for a fact it couldn’t be the air conditioning – they _just_ fixed it. A fewhours ago, to be exact.

“Bea..Bea Smith.” – the redhead returned the gesture, gingerly, smiling briefly before avoiding Allie’s gaze like it physically burned her, instead focusing on some floral arrangement right above her head.

She was looking like she cared but she couldn’t make up _a single_ color if anyone asked.

“This one over here is also my maid of honor.” – Franky gushed, appreciatively, breaking the sudden tension she felt between the two, like a sledgehammer. Of course, knowing her, she probably did it on purpose. She also didn’t waste a single moment giving Bea an encouraging side hug and more or less messing up her hair.

The older woman only glared in response, but the blonde could tell there was no ill intent behind it. If anything, these two seemed to bicker like sisters.

“Well, in that case you’ll have a very beautiful wedding.” – Allie pointed out with no filter, biting her lips as soon as the words passed them. She couldn’t help it, flirting was her second nature.

Judging by the redhead’s lack of reply and lack of eye contact, she could’ve sworn she didn’t even hear her. Maybe it was for the best – or so Allie thought, until she saw a faint trace of blush taking over Bea’s pale cheeks, dismissing her initial assumption. Eventually, she did search her gaze again, a split second contact, before she looked down at the floor.

It was more than enough to steal Allie’s breath away.

“Nicely played, blondie, but I’ll have you know not even my hot best friend can steal my thunder. All eyes will be up here, if you know what I mean-” – Franky boasted, pointing to her cleavage with a smug look on her face.

“No intention of that from me, anyway.” – Bea cut in, rolling her eyes at her friend’s antics.

“She hates weddings. But she’s doin’ it for me, that’s love, blondie.” – Franky added, this time touching her heart, dramatically.

“Ughh..” – the redhead pretended to puke, as the brunette gave her another side hug, effectively embarrassing her. She did reciprocate though, only reluctantly so.

“Which reminds me, sweet-cheeks..” – Franky trailed off, letting go of her best friend’s frame, her gaze refocusing on Allie. “Hit me, you got ‘em ready for me?”

“Of course, yeah. “ – the blonde swallowed the knot stuck in her throat, deciding to get down to business to distract herself from Bea’s eyes peering into her own, casually, yet almost intrigued, at the same time. They seemed to follow hers like a magnet and the last thing she wanted was to look like a creeper to this beautiful stranger. “And it’s Allie. Follow me, ladies.”

With that, the florist led them to the back, where even more floral arrangements were displayed, in a more organized fashion, just about to be shipped to another event. In the center of the room, there was another large desk with scattered photos all over it.

“Sorry about the mess.” – Allie apologized, bashfully, before removing the offending items and grabbing another set of prints from a high drawer above.

Her shirt lifted a bit as she stretched, exposing her abdomen, and Franky had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from saying _anything_ when she noticed her very straight, redheaded friend staring a little too hard to be just casually observing.

She was checking flower girl out.

_I knew you had it in ya, ya fox._

As Allie returned with the prints, she took a seat, nonverbally signaling to her guests to do the same, placing them on the table, a bit nervous since her work was about to be scrutinized. The fact that she also caught a whiff of the redhead’s perfume as she resumed her spot didn’t help her anxiety in the slightest. Of course she smelled good too, why wouldn’t she?

The universe was really cruel today. But she _could_ keep it professional, piece of wedding cake, she was a grown woman after all, not a teenager. She did _not_ get crushes on people, that was so high school.

“So, I’ve narrowed the arrangements to these three choices right here, you mentioned not wanting anything quote unquote stick-up-the-ass formal for you and your lady.” – Allie explained, not missing Bea’s look of approval mixed with silent amusement as she did. For a moment, she nearly lost her train of thought, but then she caught Franky’s eyes on her, urging her to continue. “So I got these ready for ya, based on what you and Bridget liked last time. Not that my opinion really matters, but I’d go for number three, classy but not too extravagant because of the white roses and—“

“I’mma stop you right there, goldilocks.” – Franky interrupted, lifting her palm in the air, almost comically. “I don’t know shit about flowers but I trust ya and your artistic sense or whateva. I also happen to agree, think these look really cool. “ – she added, appreciatively, as her fingers traced the last photo in the bunch. “Hey, Red, get your ass over here, what’d ya think?”

Her friend’s expectedly untactful approach earned her another glare, boring into Franky’s back, that the preoccupied brunette apparently missed. Allie didn’t, however, and she couldn't help but smile sincerely at the sight – they really were acting like sisters. Wordlessly, Bea looked over Franky’s shoulder, letting out a quiet, almost inaudible gasp as she did.

Of course, of all people, only Franky picked up on it. She had to refrain from teasing until they were out of this place but it was proving to be a much harder task than she initially thought.

“Wow uh…these look really nice, Allie, all of them.” – Bea studied all the exquisite arrangements down to the last detail in almost sheer awe. “ _You_ came up with..all that?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Bea.” – Allie joked, teasingly and modestly at the same time.

It was too easy.

“No, I, I didn’t mean it like that—“ – the redhead instantly panicked, thinking she had offended her or something.

But why did she care so much if she did?

“Just kidding, don’t worry. I know you didn’t. “ – the quirky blonde clarified, making all of her fears go away in a flash. “And it’s kinda what I do. Deliver happiness, one petal at a time.” – Allie added, her tone betraying self-mocking and just a touch of sarcasm.

Bea merely rolled her eyes at her. It had to be obvious to everyone by now that she really, really couldn’t stand weddings. As if reading her mind, the younger woman spoke again, this time only looking at her.

“Come on, Bea, lighten up. Weddings can be fun, there’s alcohol there.”

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a jolt of electricity running through every inch of her skin right then.

That was… _new._

“Good point.” – she answered back, a bit weaker and breathier than she wanted.

“Red, an opinion?” – Franky cut in once again, her voice betraying a not-so-subtle streak of frustration.

Those two giddy idiots were acting like she wasn’t even there.

The _nerve._

“I’d go with number three, too. Because of the classiness and whatever Allie just said. I don’t know anything about flowers either but..that’s my favorite too.”

Thankful that Bea finally took her job as a maid of honor seriously, the tattooed woman decided to shut the hell up and let her off the hook. For now.

“Righto, then. “ – Allie announced, taking the agreed upon prints away and setting them aside from the rest. “So, Franky, you want me to give you this or set it aside, will Bridget be joining us?”

“Nah, blondie, she trusted me to handle the flowers. I want it to be a surprise. And I think Gidge will dig this.” – Franky said, not even realizing the softness and sheer love in her tone at the mention of future Mrs. Doyle.

“That’s very sweet of you.” – Allie remarked, almost surprised. “And romantic, if I may add.”

“Oh yeah, that’s Doyle for ya, a garden variety romantic.” – Bea quipped, sarcastically, breaking whatever touch of magic the previous moment had, the clever pun not missed by Allie.

A massive grin spread all over the blonde’s beautiful face and Bea could have sworn her heart jumped out of her chest.

“Flower puns, I’m impressed, Bea. “ – Allie tipped an imaginary hat her way, like a gentleman.

_A woman after my own heart._

… was what she really wanted to say.

“Thanks, Allie.” - was all Bea could bring herself to voice out loud, averting her eyes timidly and fixing her collar like it decided to tighten around her all on its own.

“Don’t mind her, flower girl, she’s just mad she didn’t get to put a ring on…”– Franky cut into what felt like a private conversation once again with no trace of tact or finesse, pointing to herself proudly. “All of this first.” – she finished up by sticking her tongue out.

Like the arrogant, boastful lil shit she was.

“To tell you the truth, I _am_ in physical pain right now. And it has everything to do with this conversation.”

With that, Bea effectively shut her up. But she swore right there that she would turn the cards around in her favor as soon as they walked through those doors.

“Thank you for your time, blondie. I’ll just grab stick-in-the-mud over here and we’ll be out of your hair in no time.” – Franky informed, swinging an arm over Bea’s shoulder, annoying her on purpose. “If there’s anything else, think I’ll send this one to handle it, do some maid-of-honor-ing.”

Even if she couldn’t see her face clearly from that position, Franky could have sworn her red haired pal's body tensed on the spot. If you’d ask her, she probably sported a look of dread too.

The cheeky brunette was obviously loving this.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” – Allie reassured a fidgeting Bea, the sudden nervousness she saw in her gestures warming her heart more than she felt comfortable admitting. “And you’re fine, Bea, don’t worry. Unlike the next 5 bride-zillas I have scheduled for today. But don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I don’t exactly hang around _those_ circles.” – the redhead waved her free arm dismissively, allowing a hint of contempt to slip into her voice. She considered wedding planners and bachelorettes different species, closely related to humans but still not a crowd she’d ever want to be a part of willingly, without a gun pointed to her head, that is.

The irony of it all was that she was doing wedding planning now, too. Franky was an asshole but she was _her_ asshole – if there was anyone she’d walk the extra mile for, it had to be her. Bea owed her a lot, including her own life.

“Me neither, usually, unless those circles waltz in here, demanding crazy combos that ruin flowers for everyone. “ – Allie complained, almost with a hint of outrage, completed by frustrated hand gestures. Apparently, she was _really_ passionate about flowers – it had to be obvious by now but Bea was still surprised by her mini-rant because she looked funny all the way through it.

She really got riled up. And mad just didn’t seem natural on Allie. Bea tried not to stop and wonder why _that_ thought slipped into her head, but she failed to do so.

She didn’t know this woman, why was she even having it?

“I’ll see you ladies later.” – said woman lowered her gaze just a little, nodding at both of her guests, a little more pointedly at Bea, not that she’d notice. She was too busy absentmindedly staring at some artwork on the wall. “Nice to meet you again, Bea.”

Only when her name was called out did she stop being a rude dumbass and managed a tentative smile in return.

“You too, Allie."

Franky exhaled heavily – internally, of course – all the while mentally preparing the avalanche of verbal punches blended with teasing that was soon to unfold on her unsuspecting best friend.

“Later, blondie.” – the all-knowing brunette waved, her gaze filled with _something_ Allie couldn’t quite figure out, before she winked at her.

She was more than happy to dismiss whatever that was, for the time being. She had to get back to work.

But something told her she wouldn’t be able to get a single thing done for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fandom is so nice I could cry, thanks for the feedback so far on both of my #Ballie fics, I love you. These two idiots are very special to me right now so I hope I do them justice.
> 
> P.S. Added some later edits on this - thanks, guys, you made this chapter better and helped me set the tone for the entire story. :)

If anyone else (present company excluded) were to see the following image and they didn’t know her up close, they’d probably swoon or even stifle a giggle, as it surely brought a touch of color and life to an otherwise modestly decorated and dimly lit room.

Bea was finally,  _finally_  sleeping after one of the most exhausting weeks of her life – and not just in any way, but like a toddler. She looked so peaceful and calm, angelic even, a stark contrast to the real Bea Smith the privileged, select few were lucky enough to know (and terrified, if you’d ask Franky). It was almost impossible to believe  _that_  was the same person, if you placed her alongside the less pleasant, awake version.

It was half past 9 AM when she began to stretch comfortably and squint at the sight of a much too bright sunray creeping in through the window. Still in a groggy state, her body stubbornly ached with fatigue, silently pleading with her to go back to the realm of dreams.

That was before her phone decided to ring - so loudly it jolted her awake like an ice cold shower. She barely rubbed the remains of sleep from her eyes, before urging her numb muscles to move and retrieve the offending item.

So much for a lazy Saturday in bed. The Universe’s message was clear.

And by universe, she meant…

 _Fucking_   Franky.

Of  _bloody_  course.

She did not want the proud owner of that face on her display to also greet her verbally – Franky's scratchy tone carried even more decibels at that particular hour. Against her better judgment, shedid answer - that stupid thing wouldn’t stop ringing anytime soon.

“What do you want, Doyle?” – she grumbled, exasperatedly, her even lower morning voice coming out raspy and annoyed, partly muffled by her pillow.

“Well a peachy morning to you too, sunshine.” – her unwelcome caller greeted back, cheerfully.

And loud. Much too loud. As expected.

Franky couldn’t see Red but she could almost hearher rolling her eyes and muttering profanities on the other side. She was so certain she’d be willing to trade her right arm over it. Not one to disappoint, Bea  _did_ do just that from the other side of the line.

“So, Red, whatcha doing right now?” 

Knowing her and that extra annoying, I-need-a-favor tone she chose to use, she had to want something. No one woke Doyle up before 10 AM unless they had a death wish. For her to be up and about like a hyperactive hamster, it was enough of a signal that she meant business, business Bea was too tired to deal with right now.

“Nothing, just woke up. Actually, scratch that,  _you_  did, ass. It’s my day off, remember?” – she offered (and insulted) at the same time, hoping that was enough of an excuse for her unavailability.

It wasn’t. Franky graciously breezed past it like a paper plane.

“Perfect.” – she exclaimed, raising a victorious fist in the air, all the while winking at Bridget, who was resting peacefully on her side, draping a lazy arm around her waist. The blonde psychiatrist merely smiled at her partner’s exaggerated mannerisms – she was pretty much the only person in the world who found them endearing.  “Listen, Red, I need a favor.”

Whoomp, there it is. Round one goes to Smith - her best friend was entirely predictable.

“Favor number 50?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that - ya can’t put a count on friendship, Red. And you and me, we tight, girl---” – Franky offered in her usual, grossly fake seductive undertone that never  _once_  worked on Bea.

It wasn’t about to start working now.

“Is there a request in there somewhere? Cause I’m hanging up on your ass—“  - Bea whined, her annoyance getting the best of her, along with a patience that was wearing thin. She didn’t have that cherished personality trait - not even on a good day.

Frankyhad to know she just broke her cardinal rule – asking her to do  _anything_  before her morning coffee. In her defense, the brunette had a proposition that just might sober her cranky friend right there to generously make up for that. She wasted no time making it known - her way of attuning for her previous sins.

“Since you’re not doin’ anythin’, mind swinging by Allie’s for me today?”

If Red was drinking anything, Franky was sure she would have spat it out all over herself, so certain she’d be willing to trade not just her right arm over it this time but all of her limbs, too. Maybe even her head.

That tiny moment of tension-filled silence that followed her request and Bea's breath hitching in her throat just a little at the mention of Allie’s name was enough to tell the tattooed woman her plan was going...

B-e-a-utifully. No pun intended, of course.

All the previous fire and venom in Bea’s voice faltered and then dissolved into nothingness, like it was never there to begin with. If only the hazel-eyed woman could also see her best friend right now – more jitters, less person, awkwardly fixing that stubborn mess of curls that just fell upon her face, too stunned to even register her own moment of hesitation or the way her heart reacted before her barely conscious mind even bothered to…

Yeah, she  _really_  wouldn’t hear the end of it. Thank God they were on the phone.

“Let’s just say me and Gidge are too busy newly-wedding in advance—“

“Ugh.. okay, I do _not_  need the details, horndog.”  - Bea punctuated with only half the pugnacity she meant to deliver, before lifting a surrendering hand in mock protest in the air.

She then realized Franky couldn’t see her. Yep, still not fully awake.

“Yeah, you do, might come in handy for ya one day—“

_When you realize you’re into blondie._

“Anyways…why uh…why do you need me to see Allie again?”

This time, Bea cut in, with no touch of grace whatsoever, the purposeful urgency of that gesture betraying her inner desire to shut Franky up, on the one hand, and a touch of intrigue and curiosity at the prospect of seeing Allie again, on the other. Not that she’d admit the latter to anyone unless held down at gunpoint with her life hanging by a thread.

“Boomer and Maxie been drillin’ me like crazy on wedding details. So I tried the classic, right - a woman doesn’t just kiss and tell - but these bitches completely ignored me. Anyways they uh..wanna see the flowers I chose, they already saw me in the suit and they drooled buckets, just like ya, Red. Oh, right, before I forget, make that favor 51, I also need you later today to come hear this band for me—“

Bea sighed heavily from the other side, growing increasingly impatient with everything Doyle and barely processing her endless rambling. All she got from that was she’d get to see.... Allie again and that didn’t sound half as torturous as hearing Franky keep spewing wedding nonsense in her ear.

Still, she had to admit she was impressed by the rambling asshole’s dedication. So, she settled for voicing just that.

“Wow, you’re really going all out on this wedding, aren’t ya, Mr. Darcy?”

“Anything for my woman, y’know how it is.” – Franky answered, bashfully, looking at an amused Bridget listening to their conversation like she hung the moon.

“Uh..no, I really don’t.”

“You will soon enough.” – Franky quipped in a sing-song voice, with a deliberate raise in pitch.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Even for Doyle,  _that_  remark was weird.

“Nothing, just messin’ witcha.” – the brunette clarified, still carrying the same teasing tone from before. Bea decided to let that slide, whatever _that_  was, but only because it was too early in the day to deal with it too. “Anyways can you just ask Allie if she still has those prints and get ‘em for me? I won’t change my mind on the flowers but I need to get these girls off my back. Can you believe Boomer and Maxie both wanna mix and match to the floral theme or some shit—“

“Alright, alright. Fine, I can  _do_  Allie.” – Bea replied, nonchalantly.

The much too slow wheels turning in her head failed to catch the double meaning of that in time and she wanted to smack herself so hard across the head she flung into the next dimension for just giving Doyle..  _ammunition._ When she finally did process what her disorderly brain and mouth put together, she may or may not have also blushed all the way down to her toes, as fire spread from her face to every inch of her previously numb muscles. They were oddly responsive now.

As expected, Franky, the queen of innuendo herself, was not one to let a golden opportunity like that one just slide. She’d die before she committed that travesty.

“Yeah you can. Go get it, girl.”  - Franky whistled and cheered loudly, as she ran her tongue across her teeth suggestively, her much too enthusiastic tone and comedic hand gestures suddenly spooking Bridget quite a bit.

_What was she about to marry into, again?_

Franky smiled at soon-to-be Mrs. Doyle to reassure her that everything was, in fact, alright. She was just having the time of her life. Bridget beamed back – she’d let her have this one if it made her this intoxicatingly happy. 

It was at this precise moment that Franky reached an unquestionable verdict - her plan couldn’t have gone better even if she dreamed it or directed it herself, actors and stunt doubles included. Bea was making this so much easier on her than she thought, that same Bea who was now, more or less, playing with the sleeve of her shirt and staring at it like she just learned how to tell colors apart, sporting this new scarlett complexion like a badge of horror, one Franky would tease her into eternity for if she was physically there.

Thank God she wasn't.

“N-not what I meant,  _moron._  “ – Bea spat, clearing her throat with a slight delay, aiming for nonchalant and firm again but only halfway succeeding. She did stutter a bit, but she was more than ready to pin that on her vicious anger at Doyle still keeping her talking when she should be downing a galleon of caffeine right about now.. than anything else.

What  _other_ reason could she possibly have?

“As for the band, I’d better be nicer than the last one or this is the last audition I go through for you, maid of honor or not. Ya hear?”

“It will be, got a good feeling about this one. Thanks, Red, you’re an angel.”

“Don’t make me throw up, _please._ Anything else or are you done wasting my time?”

“Oh yeah..” – Franky trailed off, pretending to collect her thoughts even though she knew exactly what she was about to say, down to the last syllable. She kept a suspiciously neutral tone, as if whatever followed next was completely casual. And it entirely was, to anyone  _but_ her treasured pal that she planned on embarrassing even more.

She’d push all of her buttons right now even if it was the last thing she did on this fine Earth. Let’s call it her dying wish. And the famous last words were about to be glorious, indeed.

“Pass one of ‘em wedding invites to blondie for me while you’re at it, will ya?”

_Wait..what?_

Bea instantly felt like a ton of bricks just fell upon her head, all at once, with a loud bang, the echo of which still buzzing in her ears long after the noise died out. She blinked a few times in confusion – she could not have heard… _that_  right. The jumpy older woman then went on to rub her neck with her right hand nervously. She might have also gulped stealthily as her mouth fell wide open.

Franky didn’t need to see it, she could  _feel_ it. She and Red did have the whole umbilical cord thing going on – the clever brunette considered her exactly that – her sister from another mother.

“You’re…inviting Allie?” – Bea asked, eventually, almost hesitantly.

If only she would have caught the subtle touch of stifled excitement in her tone, too. Wasn’t lost on Doyle again  - the tattooed woman really was too all-knowing for her own good. That, and she also knew a thing or two about hopeless crushes on the pretty girl.

“Yeah, I like her, think she deserves some free drinks and cake on me and Gidge after all the shit we put her through. Can you believe we went to three different florists until we found someone we didn’t wanna put through the wall ‘cause of how snobbish and judgy they were? Cuz I’m tellin’ ya, Red, the rest had a stick so far up their ass they couldn’t even see the sun.”

In all fairness, Bea had to admit Allie  _was_  nice, a lot nicer than most people she’s come across in her not-so-blessed existence. Polite too. Elegant. Welcoming. No trace of judgmental whatsoever. She reached that conclusion after only taking to her  _once_.

And maybe 10 other times in her head.

Her best friend knew her even better and if there was something she could say with utmost certainty about the brazen, forward woman she considered the closest thing to a sister she ever had it was that Franky was an excellent judge of character. 

“So really, Allie’s the only one I dig out of the bunch, if you catch my drift.”

_Kinda like you, Red._

Franky had to literally bite her tongue to stop herself from saying exactly that – even if the reaction would have been priceless, show-stopping, incredible--

Dismissing her initial, short-lived appreciation of Doyle, Bea resumed to her usual feelings - wanting to punch her 24/7 for things like the one she just said. Unbeknownst to her, Bridget did the job for her, lightly smacking her flirty, preposterous soon-to-be wife on the arm. Bea might have also registered a muffled  _“you’re still my one and only, babe”._ It didn’t take a genius to figure out the two lovebirds had started kissing about a breath later.

Why was she  _still_  on this call, again? It was starting to last forever.

“If you insist.” – Bea said, at last, feigning a lack of interest Franky saw right through.

“Will that be a problem for ya, curly?” – she asked cheekily, every word heavy with implication, as soon as her lips weren’t preoccupied with other activities anymore.

“W-why would it be?” – Bea stuttered, instantly feeling under a brand new type of scrutiny she didn’t understand in the slightest.

“Ya like Allie, don’t cha?” – Franky pressed on, shamelessly, sticking her tongue out slightly along with it.

“Well I...” – Bea trailed off, going for detached and impassive and failing spectacularly yet again. “I guess she’s alright”.

The fact that she also took a bit too long to answer couldn’t have evaded Detective Doyle and her stunningly accurate spider senses...again. 

“Then it’s settled. Oh and tell her she needs a plus-one too, by the way. Like you – clock’s tickin’ Red, hope you’re closer to findin' your match or I will.” – Franky punctuated every word in a sing-song voice, almost melodically.

“Ugh...why am I your friend, again?”

Bea _hated_  that symphony.

“You love me. See ya Red, gotta get down to business now, if you know what I--”

“Bye Franky.”

And  _that_ marked the much-needed end of that conversation. Bea would have gladly clawed her eyes and ears out with a spoon otherwise. Finally free from that burden, she decided to get a start on her day - her idiot best friend had already wasted enough of her precious morning hours.

She spent the rest of that not-so-glorious start of the day eating breakfast and finally getting her caffeine, before skype-ing with Debbie for a bit. She was ecstatic that her daughter seemed to be settling in and adjusting just fine, making friends and spending her free time studying and doing all the things she didn’t get to experience here…because of Harry.

Thank God that bastard was finally behind bars and out of their lives for good.

Her daughter also voiced her intoxicating excitement for Franky and Bridget’s wedding and painful regret that she couldn’t make it. Her enthusiasm was etched onto every word and normally Bea would share that noble sentiment - just not at the moment. In her defense, she  _did_  receive an unwelcome Doyle overdose. Anyone would need a minute to recover from that, even someone with her level of acquired tolerance.

The fact that she immediately thought of Allie when her daughter started gushing like a nerd about flowers, music and all of that girly stuff nearly gave her whiplash.

It had to be because she’d see her in a bit, right? Yeah, that had to be it. Like those times you think of someone and they call a second later, like clockwork. What did they call that – telepathy, intuition?

Why  _else_ would she be thinking about Allie…of all people?

She settled for that unconvincing, maybe half-plausible explanation (the only one she had), before she grabbed her leather jacket and her car keys and walked out the door. Once inside the car, she started the engine, hopelessly attempting to ignore the sudden moisture she felt on her hands, as they stuck to the steering wheel with an iron grip.

On her way there, she couldn’t help but recall every word of a particular conversation she had with Franky not too long ago. The day she met Allie, to be exact.

Fucking Doyle, why was she in her head  _so much_  today?

_“Oiii, Red, wait up. “ - Franky trailed behind Bea, following her out into the street and crossing her arms comically, like the resident, lovable jerk in a rom-com. “What the hell was that?”_

_“What?”- Bea asked, dumbly._

_If loud mouth was the lovable jerk, did that make her the clueless protagonist?_

_“Did you really not see it? Holy shit, read the room a little.”- the tattooed woman added, amusement and disbelief etched onto every inch of her face._

_“What?” – the redhead repeated again, exasperatedly and louder than before, stopping dead in her tracks on the sidewalk just to glare at Franky._

_“You’re fine, Bea?” – the recipient of that glare mocked in a high-pitched voice._

_No way that even got close to Allie’s beautiful, calming, mezzo-soprano speaking voice. The pitch was wrong and so was the delivery. Bea might know one or two nerdy things about music from Debbie’s singing lessons._

_W_ _hy was she even thinking of Allie’s voice, again? And analyzing it? What was this, music theory and she was specializing in the symphony of Allie?_ _In her defense, the prospect sounded way more enchanting than the off-tune, scratchy Franky concert she unwillingly auditioned everyday._

_“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she meant something else by that.” – Franky insisted, this time in her own distinct (and irritating) nails-on-a-chalkboard voice, with the stunning wittiness of the lesbian guru she claimed to be._

_Clearly her snarky companion was just trying to get a rise out of her…_

_So then why was it bothering Bea so much? Why was she letting Doyle get under her skin? She thought she used enough bug repellent in the past to stop that unfortunate event from happening again._

_"Piss off, Franky, you just think everyone’s gay.”- she eventually dismissed her, fumbling with her car keys like she suddenly had two left hands._

_"Everyone IS a little gay. Even you, Red.” – Franky pressed on in her concrete conviction, winking indecently and Bea raised an annoyed eyebrow._

_If she had a penny for every time she heard that speech, she’d be rich enough to trade Franky for a new best friend or switch her back to factory settings. There was something clearly wrong with this one._

_"Oh, fuck off.”_

_Against her better judgment, Bea said that but she had to have known it wouldn’t work, it would only make her problem worse. The more she told the boastful hazel-eyed woman to fuck off in the past, the more she hit on her._ _Maybe she should try reverse psychology on her sometime, instead._

_"Just sayin’, goldilocks was flirting with you and eye-ing you like you had lighting beams shooting out of your ass and you didn’t exactly stop her."_

_On second thought, maybe she should try plain English, only speak slowly and pointedly – that tactic should work. She WAS trying to reason with a woman-child after all._

_“No, she wasn’t. She was just being nice, something you haven’t learned for the past 28 years. Why Bridget would wanna willingly deal with all…this for the rest of her life again is beyond me--”_

_"Oh, pour some water on that burn, it hurts. Tailor’s up next and you’re still taggin’ along, missy. You’ll see me in a suit, get some more of that water withcha, might need it, case you get thirsty, Red.”_

_“Ughhh.” – Bea pretended to puke, again. She hated how visual her mind got sometimes._

_"Whoomp, there it is, I can already see some drool on ya. Down, girl, I’m taken.”_

_Thankfully, judging by the above intervention, Franky seemed to have dropped the Allie subject altogether.. for now. She was more relieved about that particular change of topic than she’d admit in a million years._

_“Do you have a point in there somewhere?”- Bea urged Franky to move past her usual rambling. In the last three years of knowing her, she really hasn’t, but maybe she was just a slow learner._

_“Uh-huh. Speaking of taken….” – the brunette trailed off, gathering her thoughts. Okay, so maybe she did. “Who are you bringing to my wedding? I gave you three options and you gotta pick, I don’t have many guy friends I don’t wanna put through a wall—“_

_Bea’s chest heaved and the longest sigh in recorded history escaped her lips. Knowing her friend would pester her for details anyway, she decided to provide them before she even asked._

_“Let’s see…Brad was an accountant…what the fuck, Franky? The other two, the chef and the lawyer were nice enough but I’d have more fun talking to a wall. Why do men always talk about their jobs so much? You do realize you kinda have to be stuck with your plus-one for the entire night, right?”_

_Clearly dissatisfied by her answer, Franky insisted, again. She wouldn’t let her off the hook on this even if she begged, apparently._

_“Well, I don’t care, find someone else that’s interesting enough for ya, princess. You have three weeks to make up your mind or I will and this time I won’t take no for an answer. My maid of honor won’t come to my wedding alone. I want her to get some on my big night, it’s God’s will for every wedding—“_

_If eye-roll was a university class, Bea would pass with flying colors thanks to professor Doyle over here, forcing her to perfect that move at least 50 times an hour._

_“Do you have to be disgusting every second of every day?”_

_No answer. Least Doyle had enough common sense to know that was a rhetorical question  - a welcome evolution._

_“Find someone, Red. Let loose, have some fun. God knows you deserve it after the number he did on ya, your bastard of an ex-husband. It’s one night, don’t read too much into it.”_

_Sensing a newfound peace offering lost in there somewhere, Bea decided to play ball. For now._

_“I’ll see what I can do.”_

In all honesty, Bea had no idea why her cluttered brain decided to present her with that particular memory now, of all times, but it did. She shook her head to get the images out of there and it only worked partially, as her attention refocused on the steering wheel and the task at hand.

No less than 20 minutes later, she found herself standing outside Allie’s shop like a lost puppy, rubbing her hands together nervously. It was Saturday, almost 12 o’clock by now but the lights were still on inside.

On the one hand, she reallyhoped she’d run into Allie – she wasn’t sure she’d have the nerve to repeat this drive again any other time. On the other hand, the prospect petrified her so much it almost successfully urged her to turn back on her heel and drive to the other side of the world.

She did deserve a road trip, in all fairness. She heard Bali was nice this time of year.

No, Allie _had_  to be there. And as the grown, responsible, brave woman that she was, she would do some goddamn adult-ing – she  _had_  a teenage daughter, she couldn’t  _be_  the teenage daughter herself.

She had to get this done  _today_. And, after all, in her experience at least, bride-zillas never slept and neither did their ridiculous demands. Devils never need rest – they’re devils. Dressed in outrageously pompous and blindingly colorful dresses. The movie got it right – the Devil does wear Prada. And one of them had to be tormenting the poor blonde right now.

Even so, those pretentious brides had nothing on the torture she might also be inflicting on herself, about this very second, to be precise.

_This is ridiculous._

With that staggering observation, she huffed, fixed the collar on her leather jacket and stood up a little straighter whilst staring far ahead in faux self-confidence and determination. As she made her way through those familiar doors once again, she faltered dramatically, cursing herself all the way.

She took a sharp breath to compose herself, before looking around in utmost fascination, her eyes eventually falling upon that same artwork she was studying curiously during her previous, fateful visit.

On closer inspection, after putting the strange shapes together with a little more clarity, she realized what it was - a gorgeous painting depicting two seahorses with linked tails. The subject matter seemed out of place for a flower shop, ordinarily, but it had to have some sort of sentimental value to be displayed there, so proudly, for everyone to see and admire. Oddly enough, it also blended right in.

Not a moment later, her unknowingly softer gaze unconsciously searched for Allie’s frame that she may or may not have memorized like the back of her hand during her last visit. Unfortunately for her, the blonde was nowhere to be found in her peripheral vision and she apparently wasn’t at the front desk like last time, either.

Bea tried to dismiss that pang of disappointment settling in her chest and was almost pondering upon running for the door when said blonde came from round the back, a lot less graciously and far less quietly than last time.

She was fuming, her long strands of slightly frizzy blonde hair flying around in all directions, almost comically, following her every hectic, angry gesture, before she promptly hung up on what appeared to be a very unwelcome caller.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hint: I invite you to read with two pairs of eyes – this is the most important chapter of the entire story. You’ll see why down the road if you (hopefully) decide to stick with me and not impale me first. :)
> 
> P.S. Allie’s outfit: https://bit.ly/2ksbqAT
> 
> We get it, Bea.

The trippy, dumbstruck redhead would have at least chuckled at how funny Allie looked, had she remembered how or if she wasn’t too busy picking her jaw off the floor and struggling to learn how to breathe all over again, like she was just dropped on planet Earth to fend for herself with no instruction manual. It was supposed to be easy, basic even – inhale, exhale, a child could manage just fine and _she_ was failing notoriously.

_"Oh, for fuck’s sake.”_

It was then that the antsy, edgy blonde stopped dead in her tracks in front of her, too, with a lot less elegance, grace and discretion than she intended, every last one of the vibrant shades of blue dancing in eyes instantly turning warmer, kinder, more inviting, no hint of the previous fire to be found anymore.

And it all had to do with the very unexpected, but equally welcome guest who casually took her breath away all the same - without making a single conscious effort or even realizing she did. Slowly, but surely, a very different kind of fire ignited and settled in every corner of the blonde’s eyes, hidden in plain sight underneath the surface, if you just knew where to look.

One clueless redhead certainly didn’t.

“Is that how you greet all of your customers? Cause if so, I like your style--” – Bea joked, aiming for self-assured and sarcastic, but only managing a shaky delivery.

Allie’s expression changed again into an innocent, lopsided grin that Bea couldn’t have missed this time around even if she wanted to. Because _something_ about that made her heart do somersaults.

Franky was _still_ in her head and it was a scary picture to know her there, feel her there, hear her there, lingering and spewing nonsense in her ear. She needed to lure her out – in the next five seconds, preferably. 

Because she’d rather die than stop and wonder _why_ her throat suddenly felt dry as sandpaper, as she unconsciously scanned the blonde from head to toe. She just looked particularly dashing today. That had to be it, right? She just caught her eye.

Not her heart.

For the record, that was Doyle speaking again.

It was only natural, she’d catch anyone’s eye. Not her fault the good Lord above blessed her with flawless vision. Allie wore a tall, form-fitting black pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees, completed by an elegant, white shirt tucked in and discreet, yet equally sophisticated matching silver earrings and necklace.

“Shit…I’m so sorry, Bea, where are my manners? Sorry about that. Hi.”

Bea nodded in brief acknowledgment a million years later, only now realizing just how delayed her reaction actually was. She didn’t even register Allie speaking to her, only saw her lips moving, not that she was looking in that particular direction on purpose or anything.

By the time she did, the flower girl was already crossing the room in one swift, yet equally smooth motion, her hands grabbing a binder lying on the front desk but her eyes barely leaving hers as she did. The closer the blonde got to her, the heavier her breathing turned. It also didn’t help that she caught a faint whiff of Allie’s scent when she stopped right beside her in a stare-down of sorts.

Of course she smelled nice too, why _wouldn’t_ she?

“Hey. Rough morning?” – Bea asked, sympathetically. Her voice came out with an unfamiliar edge, one she’s never heard before, so she cleared her throat awkwardly to get whatever _that_ was out of it.

“Believe it or not, you’re the best part of it.” – the blonde gave her a heart-stopping, earnest smile and the sheer sincerity and candor she saw staring back at her nearly caused her to do a double take.

“Wow, so a _really_ rough morning then.”

And…moment over.

“You really sell yourself short, don’t ya?” – Allie teased, effectively lighting up the mood and causing her heart to do _the thing_ again. “And I guess you could say that. Until now, that is.” – she added, winking playfully, knowing better than to even expect a reply from the redhead she just stunned. On purpose.

In the short time Allie’s known her, she realized just how easy it was to rattle her and maybe leave her speechless, too. She’d have to store that in memory. For science, of course. And maybe future use, too.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” – the cheery florist broached a new subject, as much as she would’ve loved to continue on that previous note. She didn’t even care how excited she probably sounded or looked. She meant what she said – seeing this particular visitor wasn’t just the best part of her morning, it actually made her entire morning.

Or noon..? What time was it, again?

Bea opened her mouth to answer, but Allie interrupted her, gently, with a pointed move of her hand.

“Hold that thought, lovely…”

Which one? Bea was pretty sure she had at least a dozen flying by, buzzing around in her Doyle-riddled head as they spoke.

“Are you busy?” – she asked, her voice dropping an octave despite clearly going for casual. She also wasn’t fooling anyone with a pair of eyes with that obvious lip-bite that came along for the ride.

Luckily for her, if clueless had a human representation, it had to be everything Bea right now, starting with her face. A very beautiful face, if we were to go by Allie’s flawless and completely unbiased assessment. It wasn’t like she’s been studying every inch of it for the past minute or anything of the sorts.

“Not really, no...” – Bea answered, her voice faltering a bit, as the wheels turned on in her head. “Why do you ask, do you plan on killing me?”

_With feelings._

Yep, Doyle again.

“If I wanted to kill you, Bea, I wouldn’t do it here.” -  Allie explained, keeping a stoic, serious expression that almost looked believable, if it wasn’t for that playful glint in her eye. “Too much of a mess…for my flowers and all.”

“Good to know.”  - Bea nodded, stifling a grin.

“Actually..what I was gonna say before you went around and accused me of being a serial killer was…would you mind hanging out for a bit before I close up?” –  Allie added, tentatively and maybe a bit hopefully, too.

Bea appeared to be pondering upon the offer but the fact that she answered almost instantly wasn’t lost on a certain florist doing an inner happy dance right now.

“Uh..alright, sure. Did I come in after-hours or something?”

“Perfect. And you’re right on time, Bea, don’t worry. We usually close-up early on Saturday but I had to stay here for a bit, solve some mix-ups because some bozo upstairs apparently can’t read—“

There she goes with the angry hand gestures and eye-rolls again. For some reason, this woman she didn't even know reminded her of Debbie – the cranky version. She didn’t know why she was beginning to see so many similarities between them – starting with the way they both made her feel… _lighter._

“You should see Franky try that simple task with taxes and returns.” – Bea said, her small intervention making her current company instantly forget what she was even ranting or talking about.

“In her defense, taxes _are_ complicated.”

And when that warm gaze settled on her again, so did Bea.

“So….ready to see the queen’s lair?” – Allie inquired, excitedly, shaking her distracted visitor out of her trance. She could play tour guide quite masterfully too. Only one of her many talents.

Bea simply looked at her, quizzically. She had no idea what she was even propositioning but she followed suit like a trained puppy. Or maybe, just maybe, like there was nothing else she needed to do more.

“Come on.”

With that, the florist gently touched the small of her back, sending a shiver down her spine, before retreating her hand, leading a fidgety Bea to her office upstairs. She failed to notice a charged look following her frame like a magnet and the unsuspecting owner of it rubbing her hands together anxiously again.

Allie stopped right at the door, holding it open for her like the gentleman she was. This time, she did take a moment to look at Bea as she walked in, uncertainly. She had hesitation and nerves written all over her.

Allie secretly found it adorable.

"Is there any place in here that doesn’t have flowers?” – she questioned, keenly observing no less than three different types adorning the blonde’s work sanctuary.

“Not that I know of, thank God.”

The carefree blonde's small joke and chuckle cut through that unspoken tension like a knife…or maybe lifeline because the older woman immediately clung to it and took it as a much-needed cue to finally exhale – and a little less heavily, at that. She _could_ relax. Piece of cake.

_Get a grip, Red._

For once, she was thankful for Doyle’s input. Bonehead had a point.

“Have a seat. Mi casa es su casa.” – Allie paid her respects, bowing like a nerd in Bea’s direction, proudly showing off her office with the mannerisms of a reality TV star. “Don’t look so surprised, Bea, I know my Spanish, I watch TV.”

Bea merely rolled her eyes at that. She also silently approved of Doyle’s previous assessment in her head – she was a good judge of character, indeed. Allie _was_ nice. And maybe a bit of a dork, too.

“So what can I getcha? Coffee, tea, water?” – she questioned politely, like the all considerate host she was.

“Coffee’s fine, thanks.”

“Alright. Same here.” – she added, nodding and crossing the room a tad too slowly, her hips swaying just a little as she went about making said drinks.

Bea took full advantage of the fact that the flower girl’s back was finally turned on her to inhale and exhale like a normal human. In her defense, it _did_ feel like she’s been holding her breath since she walked in here. That and maybe stare at her hips, too – a fugitive, unintended and not at all guilty peek.

Doyle would surely have _something_ all-wise and all-mighty to say about that, if she hadn’t (hopefully) silenced all of her words by now.

“I can tell you’re one of the nice ones, Bea, but I’ve seen ya stare so…spit it out, come on, my ego will survive. It always does.” – the younger woman called out, sending her a brief, self-depreciating smile over her shoulder, as she stirred the drinks.

So much for breathing easier.

And for not being caught up in the act and identified for the mayor of “GawkingVille” that she was. Bea would’ve loved a door to slam her head against repeatedly in a rhythmic manner right about then – too bad the closest one was wide open.  

“Say what?”

“That I look like a zombie.” – she clarified, pouting like a child, before fully facing Bea and passing her one of the paper cups, their hands brushing slightly along the way.

Bea brought it oddly close to her chest with both hands like a treasured gift, as her breath hitched in her throat. She spoke again, much too quickly, trying to ignore _whatever_ just shook her with the combined force and intensity of a lightning and a thunderstorm.

“Well you do have some uh…dark circles under your eyes. “

On closer inspection, the blonde _did_ look a lot more exhausted and worn-out than last time. Not that she even noticed until she pointed it out. Maybe because that small, insignificant detail was _so_ far away from what she was really seeing now.

“B-but you still look..”

Bea stammered, then paused, her eyes eventually fully facing the clearly sleep-deprived, yet still glowing blonde who reminded her of colorful summer skies, vibrant sunlight and everything...  _joyful_ in the world. The instant they did, she wracked her brain, desperately trying and failing magnificently to put a name to her mixed thoughts. She knew adjectives. It couldn’t have been that long ago that she learned them. They taught that shit in school, for crying out loud – and she wasn’t that old. Was she?

Because, for some unknown reason, the _right_ adjective stubbornly evaded her right there. What did she even want to say? Good, nice?

_Beautiful?_

“You look fine, Allie.”

Not even close.

“And she lies to make me feel better. “ - Allie bowed, dramatically, once again. “You really are a sweetheart, aren’t ya?” – and with that, she allowed the much needed, cheeky compliment lingering on the tip of her tongue for half of this conversation to finally pass her lips.

Bea ducked her head, muttering a barely audible “Hardly” under her breath. Shyly and adorably too, if you’d ask her enchanted, beaming companion.

“Just take the compliment, Bea, it’s free.” – the blonde teased in response, crossing her legs all classy and business-like whilst grabbing a pen from her desk, feigning professionalism all the way despite her thoughts being anything _but_ professional right now. “And let’s just say wedding season brings out the worst in our beloved bridezillas.”

“Tell me about it. I have to do their hair. “ – Bea rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink, only now noticing the white paper cup had tiny blue seahorses on it. Same for the entire set on the table out right, on a closer inspection. Maybe that was just Allie’s very dorky thing. She’d have to ask her about that sometime.

_Why do you even care, Red?_

"What a nightmare. “ – the flower girl grumbled, rolling her eyes in approval whilst scribbling some notes down in a very disinterested manner. She was way, way more engaged in the present company slash conversation than correcting some mixed-up dates when it wasn’t even her mistake, especially after taking 3 angry calls in a row over it already.

She was pretty sure she had to fire someone or hand someone their ass on a silver platter for it – neither course of action sounded particularly exciting.

“Well, maybe you can do mine too, sometime.” – she lifted her gaze up from the papers just enough to emphasize her earlier words with some much-needed eye contact, her angry frown replaced by a vibrant smile in a flash. Her expression tended to do that a lot around a particular someone.

“Y..you’d want that?”

A particular stuttering someone who was acting too cute for her own good right now. She made her chest feel even lighter than her favorite flower – and if any _other_ poor idiot had that nauseatingly cheesy thought right then, she’d mock them into a new plane of existence.

“Why not? I’m sure you’d be great at it.” - the charmed blonde reassured her with such raw, concrete conviction in her words, causing Bea to do a double take on the spot, blinking once or twice in confusion.

She didn’t even _know_ her. For all she knew, Bea could be the worst hairdresser in all of Sydney, Australia or even the world, combined. So then why was this strange, dorky girl acting like she was certain she had the skillset of Beyonce’s stylist?

_Pretty sure she trusts all of your skills, Red. If you know what I--_

Of course, voice-over Franky had all the answers – she was even more of a wise-ass than the real-life version.

“Sure, alright. Don’t know about that, but I haven’t had any major complaints so far. I own a salon downtown with my friend, Maxine.” – Bea said, in the same self-depreciating, overtly modest tone from before.

“That’s impressive.” – Allie remarked, sincerely once again – her own way of silently begging this beautiful woman who did not feel like a stranger at all to stop downplaying her achievements. “And I just might take you up on that offer, this frizz is really..to die for. As in it makes you wanna bleach your eyes when you see it.”

This time, Bea did laugh, wholeheartedly and Allie followed suit. If Franky were to walk in and see their twin, dopey smiles right now, she’d literally need CPR.

“Could use some styling and a shorter cut but it’s not that bad, Allie.”

“See? You really _are_ one of the nice ones. But don’t coddle me, Bea, shit’s awful.”

The redhead couldn’t help it – she blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously, looking at Allie like she just noticed _something_. And she did – the stark contrast between that fancy, even exquisite outer visage and her not so polished language. It would have been an odd mix on anyone else.

It wasn’t on her.

It fit _her_ perfectly. Almost made her…

_Charming?_

That couldn’t be Doyle again, she literally just told her to go back to whatever hole she crawled out of. No, that was _her_ thought and it freaked her out so much she suddenly needed to be anywhere but here.

“So, what can I do for ya?” – she went on to ask, seemingly neutrally, but with a subtle touch of something else there, like she just knew what the older woman was thinking about mere moments before.

But she couldn’t know… could she?

The possibility filled her with pure _dread_ right there, closely followed by fear and uneasiness – she had no idea why or what to do about either _._ But she’d combust before she gave _that_ a second thought. All she knew was that it brought her down to Earth.

Because Bea was instantly (rudely on top of it too) reminded of the real reason she was actually here. She had dragged this visit way past the sensible time anyway. Time to get down to business.

“Right. I’m here on behalf of my best friend. Tattoos, big mouth, could flirt with a revolving door, remember her?” – she joked, only less heartily this time. If Allie noticed the abrupt change and this new wave of tension engulfing her, she didn’t say a thing.

“How could I forget?” – she snorted, clearly amused.  “She’s such a character, that one.”

“Right?”

The older woman wouldn’t argue against that in a million years, so she gingerly returned the gesture, in spite of herself. Because it was true - her weirdly lovable best friend made a lasting impression in any room she ever graced with her hurricane of a presence.

"I also remember you.” – the blonde added, more quietly, biting her bottom lip as soon as the words passed them.

She did not mean to say _that,_ did not mean for her voice to drop significantly lower, did not mean for every word to be laced with the slightest touch of tenderness. She also didn’t mean for everything about her previous gaze and mannerisms to change in a heartbeat. There was something serene and faraway about her now and it seemed to come out of nowhere.

And this time, Bea noticed.

“I’m not that memorable.” – she replied, dismissively and bashfully once again, trying to ignore that hint of _something_ different and almost charged that just flashed across Allie’s eyes. Did they get bluer or did she move closer?

“Sure you are.” – the blonde quipped, happily and affectionately at the same time…and whatever _that_ was, it was gone. Maybe Bea just dreamed it because the flower girl was back to her bright, chirpy self in an instant.

She was beginning to notice – and maybe suspect - that was Allie’s thing. If her best friend brought the extra decibels, the blonde happened to bring an odd touch of light to any room she was in. Or maybe Bea had so much darkness in her the contrast she created was blinding, stopping her dead in her tracks, forcing her to observe in a way no one else did or even could. She had to wonder if anyone bothered before, to see Allie the way she was seeing her now.

But she couldn’t, shouldn’t be chasing the sun – she’d only get burned.

“So what can I do for Franky, then?”

With that, the conflicted redhead shook her head to get all the crazy nonsense out (attempt at least numero cinco - she knew a touch of Spanish, too) and decided to do some maid-of-horror-ing, finally. She owed Doyle – actually, she owed her so much more than this one favor. So, she did just that – she walked Allie through all the details and reasons behind her impromptu visit, a lot more calmly than before.

She hadn’t realized how much she craved the distraction until now.

“Any particular dress code I should follow?” – the younger woman questioned, appearing to be processing all of this new information, all the while brainstorming outfit ideas in her head already.

“Yeah, just don’t wear sweatpants. She created that rule specifically for me.”

What a bummer. She’d have to cross _that_ one off her mental list already when she didn’t even get to make a case for it.

“What a shame. “ – Allie voiced her mental disappointment right away, huffing and puffing like a child, a child whose mannerisms were identical to Debbie, her daughter.

Bea had no excuse for her mind going there once again, but it did. What was she even doing - comparing a virtual stranger to the most important person in her life? And not even in a bad way? Allie was hardly losing now but _why_ was she even doing it?

Maybe Doyle hadn’t left the sacred, confined space that was her chaotic, disorderly brain after all.

“Sweatpants at weddings should totally be a thing. Comfortable, cheap, easy to wash outfit if you spill champagne or drop cake on it, what’s not to like?”

Taken aback by that unexpected remark coming from the very fashionable, even dazzling woman before her, Bea couldn’t help but voice her approval, a little too excitedly, moving in her chair to emphasize just that. She used her free hand that wasn’t occupied by her beverage to point at her.

“Right? _You_ get it, Allie.”

The flower girl wasn’t about to complain about that abrupt surge of energy in the slightest. If anything, it only fed the flames of a fire she’s felt brewing underneath the surface since the first moment she laid eyes on her current company, with no chance in hell of fizzling out anytime soon.

“Don’t be fooled by all this, Bea, I would literally only wear sweatpants if I could. “ – the younger woman laughed, reading her mind again like a psychic.

Either she was a very predictable person in general or she had too many people in there already – maybe a head-scan on the way back wouldn’t hurt, Bea thought, before re-focusing on Allie again.

“But I gotta be elegant, y’know.”  - she added, proudly, huffing her chest comically and pointing to her dashing, drop-dead gorgeous outfit. “Out of respect and appreciation for my pretty ones.”

Bea chuckled all lady-like at first, until she couldn’t stop the steady wave that followed suit. She surrendered, laughing out loud, straight from the heart and rolling her eyes at Allie’s still hilarious expression. It was at that precise moment that it hit her – Allie made her laugh and smile more in 20 minutes than she had for the past _year._

That realization might have also petrified her or, more accurately put, shook her to her very core all at once, but she was too preoccupied to do anything about it. Or perhaps too busy laughing even more. Instead, she settled for storing that in her think-about-later box – one that had to be overflowing by now.

“What’s so funny, Bea?”

“Are you _seriously_ talking about your flowers right now?”

Once her own share of laughter died down, Allie looked at her pointedly once again, that same touch of _something_ from before blazing in her eyes.

“And you.”

She clarified, smirking.

_Smooth, blondie._

Bea’s mouth fell open in a faint gasp and, with that, all the words she ever learned in her entire life died on her lips. She was pretty sure her whole vocabulary just got erased. Fortunately, to compensate for that, Doyle was still the ever-so-talkative nitwit just nitwit-ing (and nit-picking) everything her present company said apart.

“With you sharing the same space and all. “ – Allie explained, cheekily, using her right hand to create a make-shift frame, like a photographer capturing the most beautiful sight in the world. And maybe she was. “Kinda look like you belong here, Bea. Blend right in.”

_Oh yeah, Bea Smith, a delicate lil flower._

_In what universe?_

She had no idea that wasn’t what the florist meant. Not by a long-shot.

“Thank you…?” – she spoke, as soon as she found her voice again, more like a confused question if nothing else.

“It’s a compliment, I promise.” – her very amused host clarified once more, promptly silencing any questions the still not convinced redhead might have still had. “Anyways, you can tell her I’ll be there, for sure, flattered to be asked. Is she really serious about this whole plus-one thing, though? What is this, the ‘50s?” – Allie complained, her protests even noisier this time around.

“Deadly serious. She’s been drilling me to find someone too. Oh and get this, she says it’s..” - Bea paused, before using air quotes to punctuate her statement, quoting Doyle to a T. “God’s plan and will for her maid of honor and all of the other guests, particularly of the female gender to get some on her special day.”

Franky’s words left Allie in stitches and the sound of her joyous, cheerful laughter warmed every inch of Bea’s heart, taking whatever unfounded, irrational worries she held earlier with it, one heavenly-sounding chuckle at a time. She was actually having fun…

 _With_ Allie. A stranger.

That was new. She rarely had fun with anyone.

“That’s…oddly considerate of her. “ – Allie snorted again, scrunching her nose cutely, her eyes shimmering from all the laughter-induced tears, causing every shade of blue to stand out even more, not that Bea caught up on that. Not in the slightest. “So did ya…did ya find someone?”

The blonde couldn’t have masked that clear, obvious hint of hope or open invitation to have her assumption dismissed even if she wanted to. Thank God she was still chatting with Cutie Ms. Clueless over here.

“Course not. “

Who also didn’t notice Allie sighing in absolute relief at that.

“Bloody idiot’s been tryin’ to set me up with three of her guy friends, right, and they all put my whole face to sleep. “ – Bea explained (or more accurately put – groaned), motioning to her entire whining face. “My options haven’t been great either.”

“Yeah, I get it. You do have to hang out with one of ‘em all night, right? Can’t imagine what it’s like to party with the human version of the yawn emoji.” – Allie pointed out, all-wise yet again, unknowingly voicing all of Bea’s thoughts precisely for how many instances in this one encounter..?

It really felt like she was inside her head.

It was scary. And impressive, at the same time.

“God, you really _do_ get it, Allie. Thank you.” – she blurted out, appreciatively.

“It’s a skill… _and_ a curse.”

“I’m sure the burden’s killing you.”

“You don’t know anything about my burdens, Bea.” – Allie concluded, faux dramatically, proudly winning their little back-and-forth like she was born to do just that for the rest of her life – bicker with this beautiful stranger.

She almost sounded convincing until she burst into laughter towards the end of the sentence. So much for the flawless delivery.

“Anyways, I uh..I’m sure it’ll be easier for ya.” – Bea said, eventually, taking another gulp from her previously forgotten drink, feeling her lips and throat dry out again.

“Why would it be?”

“Well you’re…I mean look at you, you’re..”

Pretty?

Nice?

_Pretty nice?_

Third time’s the charm – and what Bea really wanted to say this time around was _“beautiful”._ Needless to clarify, that mortifying realization spooked her even more. So she did the awkward obvious - literally swallowed _that_ word still daring to linger on her lips, taunting her, before kicking herself hard for good measure. All internally, of course.

Externally, she had to be the picture of flawless composure. She practiced.

“I mean.. who wouldn’t wanna escort you to a fancy event with free booze?” – she offered, instead, clearing her throat, and Allie seemed convinced enough to let it go.

Or not.

“I’m sure there’s a compliment in there somewhere, Bea, so I’ll take it.” – she teased slightly, like she had to get it out of her system, before her expression switched again to a not-so-merry one. “And not quite. Let’s just say my only viable choice would have been Alicia. My ex…if she wasn’t my ex. “

Sensing the instant change in energy and the strange, palpable tension and hurt surrounding the younger woman, Bea felt this driving impulse to get up from her seat and comfort her, silencing everything else, even her own surprise at Allie’s admission or Doyle’s voice in her head doing a victory dance and chanting _“Told ya blondie had it for the ladies, you owe me 50 bucks.”_

But she couldn’t move a single inch, couldn’t force herself up from that chair she felt almost glued to, couldn’t even manage a tentative, comforting touch of the blonde's shoulder.

And she didn’t know why it bothered her so much that she just… _couldn’t._

“I’m sorry, Allie.” -  was all she _could_ give, instead.

“Nah, don’t be.” – Allie waved her hand around dismissively, forcing a halfway convincing, yet obviously pained smile. “Think it was a blessing in disguise. Now that I think about it, I could have always asked Fletch, the only guy friend I don’t hate but he’s out of town. “ – she pursed her lips, pondering even more, assessing possible options, despite the most obvious one standing right in front of her, studying her curiously and latching onto her every word.

She had no right. And she was too scared to ask.

Because it was one _“no”_ she wasn’t sure she could take  - despite handling way worse rejection in life over and over again without batting an eye. Maybe even with a “practiced” smile on her face, one that she was sporting too often for her liking.

“Maybe we can get her to drop that stupid rule? Strength in numbers?” – she wondered out loud, instead.

“Fat chance, knowing Doyle. You don’t get it, if _she’s_ celebrating love, everyone has to.”

To that, they both laughed in unison and unspoken agreement. Allie’s laugh was only partially sincere and, if the redhead noticed, she stayed quiet.

“Well, how about this…” – Allie offered, at last, like the sneaky troublemaker she was. “If you get bored out of your skull with whoever you’re bringing, whistle and I’ll pour champagne down your throat faster than you can say _speak now_. But only if you promise to do the same for me.”

“Alright, you got yourself a deal.” – Bea nodded, enthusiastically – a new look on her. One Allie happened to appreciate even more because the sight immediately lit up her entire face like a Christmas tree. “And it’s _speak now or forever hold your peace_.”

“Oh wow, look who knows her weddings.” – Allie teased in mock appreciation, biting her bottom lip again. She really couldn’t help it.

“I like to know my enemies up close.” – Bea countered, effectively winning this round.

“Fair enough.” – the younger woman put her hands up in the air, signaling complete surrender. She knew she lost. No one ever out-bantered her before – she was impressed.

“Gimme your hand.” – the not-so-sore loser added after a long pause, reinforcing her earlier promise with a determined command.

Bea’s eyes barely had time to follow the blonde’s frame moving from her seat with the speed of an arrow before she stopped right beside her, staring her down…suspiciously? That look she was receiving was so unfamiliar it forced one oblivious redhead to place it under her “suspicious” category, for lack of a better term.

She’s never seen _focused_ or _mesmerized_ on her before, not on this level. No wonder she couldn’t identify either.

“Why? Do you plan on twisting it or something—“

“That’s not even _how_ I’d kill you, Bea, so unoriginal.” – Allie explained, maintaining the same teasing tone from before, her fake glare gone in an instant, replaced by a soft, entranced smile, as she gently took Bea’s right hand, linking her pinkie finger with hers.

"Pinkie promise. So you know I mean business.”

The equally dazed redhead briefly thought of the artwork downstairs but that was about as much thinking as she could manage right now.

“While you’re at it…” – Allie trailed off, winking and letting go of Bea’s hand as quickly as she touched it, leaving the latter staring in shock mixed with…disappointment? “How ‘bout you pass me one of those business cards of yours? Please fix me. Enough scarring the world with _these_ split ends. “

“I’m gonna try, no promises.”– Bea teased back, with only half the impact she meant to deliver, before rummaging through her purse in search of the requested item. All the while, her hectic, unpracticed movements made her feel like she had two left hands all over again, like she’s never seen or opened a wallet in her entire life or even had the slightest clue how those things worked. “There you go.”

Allie was too awestruck to care. She also happened to find her jumpiness very endearing.

“I uh…I should get going, I’ve taken enough of your time already “ – Bea announced, a hint of regret slipping into her voice uninvited, as she lifted herself up from her seat. She unconsciously, maybe even absentmindedly played with the strap of her purse that was now resting on her shoulder. Perhaps she just needed to do something with _that_ hand no longer occupied by someone else’s.

Not that she missed the sensation, certainly not– if she let her mind go there, too, she’d open Pandorra’s Box. And she couldn’t deal with a cheery Doyle doing a happy dance all over it.

“Nonsense, I don’t mind the company.”

 _Your_ company…

…was what Allie really wanted to say.

The heavy, meaningful, even suggestive tone she used flew right over Bea’s head. Again.

“That…” – the still fidgety older woman offered, weakly, graciously missing the subtlest hint of dejection in Allie’s eyes. “And I also have a cranky Doyle to get back to. Apparently I have band auditions up next – and they’re not even mine.”

“Ouch…that should be fun.” – the florist remarked, her lips turning upwards into a small, reassuring smile, in spite of her previous sentiment. But if you asked anyone who really, _truly_ knew her, they’d tell you the front she just put up still had _longing_ and _I-want-you-to-stay_ written all over it.

“Well then, say no more. I’ll go get those prints for ya real quick, don’t wander too far. Then I’m closing up – it’s not fair for everyone to go home but the boss, right?”

On top of everything Allie _just_ woke up in her in the last half an hour, Bea had to tick a newfound appreciation for the blonde’s work ethic, too. She literally sent all of her employees home to clean up a mess that wasn’t even hers and took the heat for it. Only Doyle would do something like that – with a little more complaining and yelling, sure, but…

Allie was reminding her of the _other_ most important person in her life right now. She didn’t know where these comparisons even came from but the blonde was passing with flying colors on all tests she unknowingly compiled.

And this time, when Allie returned from out back, as lively as before, maybe with an extra pep in her step too, just to humor her, their fingers brushing just a little as the flower girl handed her the prints, she didn’t jump out of her skin straight into the ceiling. She didn’t even flinch. She just smiled, her prior thoughts making her feel.. _lighter._

And…happy. That’s what this was – she was _happy_ right now. The why didn’t matter, for the time being, at least. Neither did the two missed calls from Franky she hadn’t even heard or bothered to return. She’d deal with that mess later.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was too earnest and meaningful for her to be talking about _just_ the prints.

“One more thing…” – Allie trailed off, a sneaky glint settling in her sky-blue orbs once again. She turned on her heel, this time very gracefully, retrieving a single red rose from the elegant bouquet behind her. “For you.”

“W-what’s the occasion?” – Bea stammered, scanning the allured blonde standing much too close to her now like she suddenly grew two heads, way more stunned by that simple gesture than anyone should be. Well, anyone without _her_ level of tragedy, perhaps. Because she couldn’t remember the last time _anyone_ gave her flowers – aside from Franky on the odd occasions she felt like celebrating or her daughter on her birthdays. 

Allie's sudden proximity that didn't feel like an invasion of privacy at all and the sheer intensity of her gaze could have taken her last breath away.

“You didn’t think you’d walk out of _my_ crib without one, did ya?” – she smiled, fumbling with her keys, looking down and then back up quickly, as an unexpected stroke of shyness took over her. A strange role reversal. One that still managed to leave Bea’s entire chest in knots because even shy looked good on Allie. “I _do_ have manners, Bea, just ignore whatever you saw earlier, I swear it’s not a reflection of who I am or my character or anything--”

“Don’t worry, Allie. I didn’t think it was.”

And she _did_ make it up to her for that small indiscretion tenfold, anyway. Such an insignificant event that wasn’t even in the furthest corner of Bea’s mind. But it obviously still was on hers.

Because _something_ about the sheer conviction in her words made Allie's already soulful, luring eyes turn wetter on the spot, drawing Bea in even more, as everything about her turned crestfallen, completely out of the blue. It was a split-second change but she saw it.

“Thank you for that.”

As the previously chirpy flower girl closed up and turned off the lights behind them, she beamed back – genuinely, yet a lot weaker at the same time, a hidden, subtle streak of sadness flashing across her blue orbs that no one else would have picked up on.

But Bea did and her heart dropped in her chest painfully. She had to wonder right there why that small, meaningless observation seemed to affect Allie so much. Maybe, just maybe, people had vastly different, _worse_ things to say about her character in the past than she did just now. The thought made her angrier than she was ready for.

Allie was _light_. Sadness was so out of place on her. So wrong.

“We should do this again sometime.” – Allie proposed, rubbing her hands together and flashing her a flirty smile that did reach her eyes eventually. It was her version of goodbye. She hated all of the other types and she’s known plenty, from angry words to slammed doors to fits of crying.

And, just like that, the vibrant light from before returned like it never even left. And maybe Bea saw it and understood its gravity and impact more than anyone else because she paid so much attention. That, and she _just_ saw it falter, taking her own, very limited flicker of light along with it. Suddenly, not even their height difference seemed that hard to cross…all she had to do was stand up on her tip-toes a little to reach out to her.

She ached to wipe the unshed tears in Allie’s (still) noticeably glazed eyes. Because she saw her, she saw her going _somewhere_ inside her mind, even if just for a few seconds, somewhere that _hurt_.

But she couldn’t. All she managed was a heavy, charged breath and an absent, weak nod, the sudden weight in her chest rendering her speechless. Because Allie was back to smiling sincerely, even gratefully, in a heartbeat.

_For her._

No one ever graced her with that kind of an effort before.

“Y-yeah, sure…Thanks again, Allie.”

With that, she said her goodbye too with all the wrong words that didn’t even get close to what she really ached to say.

Which was “ _I hope I’ll see you again soon_.”

“Nonsense, I didn’t do anything. See ya, Bea, have a good one. Enjoy the audition.”

And with that, the blonde’s frame finally faded from view, as she made her way to her car, not before flashing another over-the-shoulder smile her way – a real one yet again.

_“Oiii Red, do you keep your phone stuck up your ass or something? I presume blondie’s been keepin’ ya busy wink wink nudge nudge but ya can’t just ignore your dearest friend—“_

Not even the million decibels of Franky’s voice in her ear as she fumbled with her car keys could erase that split-second image of the broken blonde out of her mind – it went away as quickly as it appeared, that flash of hurt in her eyes. Allie was a stranger to her, she had no business asking what happened or even what brought it on.

So then why did she even care? Why was it affecting her so _goddamn_ much? She couldn’t let it go.

Because it felt like watching the sun go down when you’ve been starved off light your entire life.

It felt like watching a flower blossom….then wither…then blossom again.

“What now, Franky?” – she grumbled, with about a tenth of the fire her voice usually carried.

Least her best friend got the hint.

“Sorry Red, forgot something crawled up your ass this morning, must’ve not crawled back out by now. You can ditch me for today if you want—“

“I’m sorry. “ – Bea apologized, after a painstakingly long pause, sincere regret slipping through every word. She didn’t mean to snap at her best friend like that. This time, at least. She also didn’t understand _why_ she was reacting the way she was. “I’m coming your way, alright? I was promised an audition.”

“That’s my girl.” – Franky raised a fist in the air, excitedly.

She hung up and stared far ahead, sighing, before her eyes fell upon the single red rose gracing the passenger’s seat – the only touch of color she had now. She unconsciously clutched it protectively in her hand, before bringing closer to her chest.

It didn’t bring the sun back up for her…

But it was a start.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For someone who hates weddings almost as much as Bea, the irony of working on two wedding fics in the same night is not lost on me.
> 
> P.S. I (finally) know exactly where I’m taking this, down to the ending. So, buckle up and I hope you enjoy the delivery. :)

In all the years of knowing Franky – three to be specific – Bea had seen all shades of her, from happy to sad, angry to flirty, down to the most reoccurring one - _outrageously_ annoying.

However, what most people didn’t know about her best friend was just how fiercely loyal and determined she could be, above everything else, when she set that freakishly brilliant mind of hers to it – once Doyle set her eyes on the prize, whatever that prize was, no one could steer her off her path. Sure, you could try, but you’d either fail or get your ass handed to you on a silver platter, completed by some innuendo about the aforementioned ass (courtesy of that same brilliant _and_ equally dirty mind).

Her determination and loyalty proved to be impressive in so many contexts in the past – from charming Bridget into, most recently, marriage to climbing the corporate ladder and owning her own restaurant, ending with the most important accomplishment of all – using that unyielding loyalty to protect her best friend and her daughter by making sure Harry would rot in prison for the rest of his life.

Bea had to admit Franky was one of the most decisive, even unrelenting people she knew. And she appreciated that character trait a lot. However, there were many instances when Franky walked a very line between fierce determination and downright craziness.

Such as _now._

At the moment, the dejected brunette had what even _she_ would call an impossible task to achieve in mind. One she suspected no one could perform on such short notice. Bea, on the other hand, had all the faith in the world in a specific _someone_ to be the right woman for the job. Not that she’d ever say it out loud – especially not using _those_ words.

As maid of honor, she was the first person to hear of this marvelous plan, as she and Franky found themselves going over wedding details (she lost track of how many times at this point) at a café just across the street from Allie’s shop. The fact that her proposition also involved the proud (and stunning) owner of that shop was just…the icing on the cake.

_"Oiii, Red, are you even listening to me?”_

For a particular someone who had anything on her mind right now _but_ gentle blonde locks and seahorses and warm, inviting sky blue eyes and red roses and… _light._

“What the fuck, Franky?”

Turns out that blinding light was just her best friend’s keychain flashlight shining in her eyes. Bea grumbled under her breath, then squinted in annoyance, before closing her eyes altogether, ignoring the interruption. She went back to resting her head on her palm, counting sheep all over again to avoid thinking of any name that rhymed with Sally.

Idiot _just_ made her lose count. The nerve.

“I take it that’s a yes on second photographer would capture the essence of our love the best. Thanks, _useless.”_

There was only one week to the blessed event and Franky’s new, entirely crazy (but very romantic idea) that popped into her head was about to make a certain florist chew her ear out.  But…it might also give Bea an excuse to see her again. That was all she got from it, her only silver lining.

She didn’t know whether to feel guilty for the misery _Imagine Me &You on steroids_ over here would surely put the blonde through or grateful.

Not that she missed her. Not that she replayed every detail of their previous encounter in mind until it drove her crazy. Not that she _only_ heard what Franky was saying to her when Allie’s name (or whatever nickname of the day her best friend went for) passed her lips.

Not that it was the _only_ thing that sparked her interest among the endless wedding talk, from invoices to photography to table arrangements to…what was she even on about again?

“Yo, Red…” – Franky took another generous gulp from her coffee, before bumping Bea’s shoulder roughly, only partially jolting her awake from her daydream. Her words reached a deaf destination once more but Franky was too busy yawning to rip the redhead a new one.

Not a second later, the brunette’s hazel eyes dropped even more and not with lust (for once), just pure exhaustion. She looked like a zombie. A real-life zombie with only a tenth of the energy her usual, frenetic hamster-on-a-wheel self carried and rained down on the innocent.

“Where’d ya go just now? For fuck’s sake, Red, I need you. Listen, does _blondie_ strike you as the I-can-perform-a-miracle-type?”

“What?” – Bea’s ears perked up in curiosity, instantly.

She jumped out of her seat (maybe skin, too) straight into the ceiling, fully crashing back to Earth from La-La-Land like Allie’s name was both a ringtone and a wake-up call designed specifically for her.

Franky’s all-knowing smirk returned like a second, less pleasant wake-up call she was dead-set on ignoring.

“Allow me to rehash, _dreamy,_ more like nightmare-y from where I’m standin’.”

Bea shot daggers from her eyes but Franky breezed past it, unfazed. She was too worn-out to give a shit or strike back. This second, at least.

“I want to do somethin’ special for Gidge…and it just hit me last night, right... we were dancin’ to this really sappy song she loves so much and uh..” – Franky’s voice faltered, her hazel orbs turning softer at the drop of a hat.

It never ceased to amaze Bea how her best friend’s entire idiot face down to the last idiot line changed when she talked about Bridget. It was almost…endearing?

Nah…this was _still_ Doyle she was talking about. Scratch that.

“I thought about it and I want the band to do like..a moment for us on the beach, before following us inside where we’ll set up the stage. It’s where we first met, y’know. It’s also where I first realized I didn’t want to just get in her pants, but her heart, too.”

“Oh, wow, _Nicholas Sparks_ —“

“Shut your mouth, Red, we are _never_ bringin’ this up after today. Anyway, the ceremony will still be inside, obviously, but I wanted to give her one last reminder of who we were…before we move on to who we’re gonna be.. make sense to ya?”

“Really, Doyle, romantic advice from me?” – Bea raised a sarcastic eyebrow, earning a very tired, but still pointed glare in return.

“You really _are_ useless, Red.”

“So uh…where does…” – Bea cleared her throat, then fixed her hair…casually. “Where does Allie fit into all this, again?” – she added, completely neutrally, not-at-all-curiously, without a single hint of stifled excitement.

“Oh, so _now_ I got your attention.” – Franky groaned with an abrupt, almost spooky surge of energy, by mere force of contrast, if nothing else.

Bea was the splitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. The opportunity for a dirty joke was so close but the boastful brunette had to pass. She’d make up for that indiscretion tenfold _later,_ when she wasn’t focused on the task at hand.

“Well if you must know, _Cruella_ , I want my beautiful fiancée to have it all. And no cliché lesbian moment on the beach is complete without flowers. So this is where I need blondie to work her magic, if you know what I mean—“

Or maybe _now._

“Point, Franky, point. Get to it.”

“I was thinkin’ this flower arch, right, that we can walk through, maybe flowers on the sand too, like paving the way or some shit. I know it sounds stupid but I think flower girl’s gonna get it. I also want like maybe…two of the band members to start off this moment outside and then follow us inside, play something super cheesy while all this happens. Maybe the song from last night--”

“Jesus Christ, now I’m getting a toothache to go with _this_ headache.” – Bea rolled her eyes, pointing to her throbbing head, aiming for disgusted but still allowing a small hint of appreciation to pass, unconsciously.

It had to be nice. Having someone go through all of this trouble for you, having someone cherish you enough to even try.

“You think goldilocks call pull that off on such short notice?” – Franky asked, doom and gloom and uncertainty clouding her eyes. “It’s full wedding season and she’s done so much for us already but--“

And judgment too, if you’d ask Bea. _No one_ was about to show Allie that level of distrust and doubt. Not on her watch.

“Course she can.” – she cut in straightaway, with a fire like no other, a stark contrast to the fragrant disinterest and absence shown for the better half of this conversation. She spoke like it was her life’s mission to defend Allie’s honor…and abilities…and well, _everything_ about her.

“I mean…that’s her job, right?” – she added, too late in masking her fire, one that was gradually scaling down from Empire-State-Building-On-Flames level to a small, flickering candle light.

Franky’s face nearly split wide open from the shit-eating grin that just took over it.

“So you _do_ think she’s a miracle worker, huh?” – the shameless brunette ran her tongue over her teeth. “Wonder what made you think that, Red.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake—“

“But maybe you’re right, oh-so-faithful one. There’s only one way to find out, right?” – the tattooed woman jumped from her seat in a flash with a newfound spark, like she just stole some of Bea’s previous fire for her own selfish gains. “Let’s go see her.”

“Alright.” – the redhead voiced her agreement immediately, neutrally to anyone else on the entire planet _but_ Franky. Because she knew Red had exactly two vocal inflections – disinterested and very disinterested. And this was neither. This was “ _my voice is doing this but my face tells a very different story.”_

“Really, Red? No complainin'?” – she pressed on, audaciously, but apparently Bea came prepared – she stood tall, like a brick wall. “So what, you suddenly _like_ maid-of-honor-ing?”

“Just want you off my back, Doyle.” – Bea shrugged, lifting both hands in the air dismissively, then drank the last drops of her coffee, before setting her paper cup down louder than she meant.

“Please, you love me there.” – Franky teased one more time before dusting her pants, snaking an arm around her friend’s shoulder and dragging her out into the street.

As they made their way to Allie’s shop, Franky’s alarmingly accurate lesbian guru senses started tingling and setting off rainbow fireworks everywhere. She was picking up a new, charged vibe in the air and, for once, it had nothing to do with her fabulous self. No, it had everything to do with this…this changing aura engulfing her best friend, seemingly out of nowhere. She was pretty sure she saw Red fixing her hair and collar three times already, saw her entire trademark, unimpressed face change into a soft, stupid, _dopey_ look. Even her normal, not-so-gracious movements were more calculated now, smooth even.

The brunette was determined to use all of this to her advantage - she would rattle Bea until she surrendered, just because she could. That, and she also believed embarrassing your best friend in front of their crush was a constitutional right.

“After you, Red. You look like you know your way around here, if you catch my drift—“

Before Franky could as much as take another breath, Bea was already grabbing her by the collar, menacingly. Her glare was enough to promptly shut her up which was suspicious in and of itself. The brunette never let it go without a fight but, for once, Bea was too preoccupied to care.

She did, however, comply. It wasn’t like she wanted to see Allie first or anything. She also didn’t feel her hand tremble on that door handle, at all. It was just cold (in late spring) and that was a normal shiver (in 22 degree weather).

Before she could entertain another thought or take a single step forward, Allie’s moving frame was already gracing her view, like those first rays of sunlight at the dawn of morning, exposing a whole new world of possibilities, nothing the dead of night from before could even dream of witnessing. Until now.

She was even _more_ alluring, breathtaking and beautiful than last time. Maybe that was just her…natural state.

“Hey there.”

Bea froze on the spot, every beat of her heart suddenly in perfect synch with the blonde’s approaching footsteps. Her eyes followed suit like a magnet.

The flower girl was carrying a photo album…and the entire _weight_ of the world on her shoulders, judging by her even more exhausted exterior, slightly slumped shoulders and lethargic, yet still effortlessly graceful movements.

“Oh, wow…way to brighten a girl’s day.”

Maybe not anymore.

“Hey…”

If only she knew it was, in fact, _her_ who shone brighter than any sun.

“Why thanks, blondie, finally feelin’ the love. I always knew you secretly wanted a piece of the Doyle.”

As Bea’s skewed luck would have it, her best friend was determined to be that single cloud ruining this impromptu sun-moon reunion. Raining on people’s parade is what she specialized in, after all – she should put that on her résumé.

Bea and Allie’s previously spellbound, almost hypnotized looks morphed into twin eye-rolls – they couldn’t have been more synchronized even if they practiced.

“And a wild Ms. Doyle appears. What can I say, you caught me.” – Allie smiled sheepishly in lieu of greeting, her voice coming out with a subtle sarcastic edge.

“I know all your secrets, blondie.”

Bea was so focused on everything Allie she couldn’t have missed the slightest shudder that took over the normally composed blonde. She could have also sworn she turned one or two shades paler than usual but maybe it was all in her head.

Because, not a moment later, the florist shook her head slightly, blinking once or twice then switching to her usual, well-mannered and professional self. Her shoulders straightened and a seemingly polite, business-like smile graced her features, one that was obviously directed at Franky.

“How may I assist you today, ladies?” – she moved on to ask, courteously, with perfect posture and composure now, lowering her gaze. Her eyes, however, were telling a completely different story.

“Better yet…please follow me, let’s not discuss here, this reception still has scarring memories from this morning all over it—“

“Lead the way, hot stuff.” – Franky interrupted, biting her lip and winking suggestively and Bea was instantly hit with a stroke of genius.

So that’s what “honor” attached to her new title stood for. Yes, it would, in fact, be an _honor_ to murder the future bride right now.

As they made their way upstairs to the blonde’s office once again, Bea couldn’t shake the memory of every moment she spent here last time. She briefly caught the moving contours of employee frames scurrying about down the hall but she couldn’t make up a single detail about them.

She had _other_ , vastly different details playing on her mind obsessively, taunting her like she was just here yesterday. Least she was breathing normally this time around, but only because she deliberately avoided direct eye contact with a certain someone.

”So, what’s with you and seahorses, golden arches? Trippy art nouveau you got downstairs—“ - Franky remarked, shrugging just a little, before making herself overly comfortable in the shop owner's personal workspace.

“I’d tell you, _Amy Winehouse_ , but then I’d have to kill you.” – Allie answered with a straight, unimpressed face.

Only Bea noticed that sneaky, playful spark in the blonde’s eye, lingering just below the surface that came along with it. The sight made her unable to pull away and, before she could stop herself, she was looking even more intently, studying every flicker of light on that endless blue sky before her.

“So you really _are_ a serial killer…”

It felt like staring directly into the sun. Oddly enough, it didn’t blind her.

“Guilty as charged, Bea. You should see what’s in my backyard.” – Allie shot her a light-hearted nod, before rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“Flowers?”

“And bodies, duh. Gotta make ‘em look pretty, y’know how it is.” – she waved her arm around then winked in a dazed redhead’s direction, whose heart was starting to do…

“I really don’t.”

 _The thing_ again. With how often that happened lately, maybe she _should_ see that cardiologist after all.

“So uh…what can I bring you, ladies?” – Allie asked, cordially, still the ever-so-considerate host.

“Nah, you stand there, goldilocks, I gotcha. Let _me_ serve _you_ …”

Right, Franky was here..too.

And Bea was rapidly catching on double meanings. Normally, she was used to her best friend’s sky-high level of disgusting, she didn’t even mind or register her obnoxious flirting with anything that as much as breathed within ten inches of her. She didn’t know why it was bothering her _so much_ right now.

“How considerate, Ms. Doyle. Any particular reason for this random act of kindness?”

“Do I _need_ a reason to serve a pretty girl?”

She wanted to punch the living daylights out of her best friend for daring to turn the Doyle charm on an unsuspecting, undeserving Allie. She didn’t even stop to process that unconscious glare that instantly set on her face or her hand balling into a fist by her side. She just wanted to shield Allie from the torture of Lesbian Cassanova.

Because she was a good person and she cared.

_About Allie?_

She shook her head before allowing _whatever_ thought she had entertained for 0.02 seconds to materialize into an even bigger tornado of thoughts that she’s been trying to silence, maybe even erase altogether since walking in here.

“Caffeine for you, tea for Red, calms her down…” – Franky explained, dutifully, making a deliberate pop sound with her lips whilst staring all-knowingly at her very scary-looking redheaded pal, before passing her one of the paper cups with extreme caution.

Why would Franky even assume she _needs_ to calm down? She was totally composed, not at all angry or nervous, weirdly enough at the same time. Luckily for these two bickering fools, if Allie noticed anything about their little stare-down, she didn’t make a single acknowledging sign.

“I’d say vodka for me but you still don’t have any. Really, you never feel the need to spike your drink doing what you do, flowery?—“

“You do know I have an actual name too, right? Rhymes with Cali?” – Allie grumbled, fully facing the excessively friendly brunette just to stop her gaze from going… _anywhere else_. “And no day drinking on the job, sorry.”

“Ugh…boring. But I’d so take _you_ to Cali if I wasn’t getting hitched—“

“Tone it down, Franky.”

As fate would have it, that _anywhere else_ just entered her peripheral vision and the blonde’s eyes and frame followed like clockwork.

Allie gulped a little, still rubbing her neck (an anxious tick she acquired as a child), then smiled at the proud owner of the voice behind the interruption, a lot more fondly than she realized. Of course even angry looked good on her. Why wouldn’t it? Apparently _“torture Allie Novak”_ was on the universe’s to-do-list today – in every sense of the word.

“Someone’s jealous.” – Franky quipped and Bea turned ghostly white on sight. Needless to clarify, it was still a very beautiful sight from where the blonde was standing.

“No worries, Red, still your number one fan—“

Bea didn’t know whether she wanted to kill her obnoxious best friend or hug her, then kill her. Because she just dangled her over the edge of a cliff to throw her a saving rope a second after.

_Jealous?_

No chance in hell. She was _not_ jealous. What would she even be jealous _of_? She didn’t even know that emotion because she _never_ got jealous. Maybe overly protective..sure. But that was a side of her that only manifested around her daughter and the rude asshole in front of her, too, on the odd occasions she didn’t feel like crushing her like a bug under her boot.

“Don’t make me throw up, I’m begging you.”

Like now.

Bea’s disgruntled gaze followed Franky who was now biting her lip to stop another smartass comment from coming out, before re-assessing her priorities. In a flash, the hotheaded, incredibly disrespectful brunette was crashing on Allie’s couch, putting her sneakers up like she owned the place, with no touch of grace whatsoever.

“Fuck, I’m so tired…”

Bea’s harsh, steely glare could cut through glass, concrete and titanium combined at this point.

“’Kay, let’s get down to business.” – Franky jumped from her seat like an arrow, almost like she never even sat down in the first place. She closed her eyes for exactly 3 seconds but it wasn’t like she needed sleep. Devils never do.

The redhead’s glance barely had time to keep up with the brunette’s moving frame before she was already plopped down on the chair facing an even more elegant and glamorous Allie than last time. Not that Bea was noticing every detail about this new, striking outfit she wore and how it fit her every curve. Not that the contrast was so blinding that Bea she had to take a physical – and mental - step back just to wonder…

How did the universe allow these two in the same space without messing up the entire equilibrium of the world?

“Get ready to be woo’ed by my creative genius, blondie.”

The fact that this incredibly classy, drop-dead gorgeous woman was _also_ listening carefully to Franky’s every word as she rehashed her new plan was even more impressive. She managed to follow her until the end with only one eye-roll along the way.

Allie really _was_ an angel _._

_Wait, what?_

“I would have appreciated you asking for all of this sooner...” – the still focused younger woman declared, politely as always, pondering and biting her bottom lip in deep thought.

And Bea saw that in real-time (more like slow-motion) because, coincidentally, her eyes darted in that particular direction while Allie was speaking, no ulterior motive. She was just listening closely, watching the exchange like an unbiased third party. Who also happened to observe that there was not a single hint of protest or masked complaint in Allie’s mannerisms, voice or even gaze.

If Bea was impressed before, she could build a shrine for her now.

She was too busy looking at the unbelievably patient blonde to even notice the brief flash of resignation and maybe even sadness taking over Franky’s (still) droopy hazel eyes.

“But it’s feasible, don’t worry. “

This time, Bea did hear the faintest echo of her best friend’s relieved sigh in her ear, before her eyes re-focused on Allie once again. On closer inspection, it became painfully transparent just how exhausted the flower girl really was – the dark circles from last time were even more pronounced now, despite that thin make-up coating on top. This new request had to put an enormous stretch on her schedule. And it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Guilt and worry instantly hit Bea like a sucker punch to the gut. She was pondering upon maybe talking Franky out of this crazy idea. She was just worried about Allie’s health. Because she cared. About _people_ ’s health. In general. We all should, right? Run, eat your vegetables…sleep?

Maybe those were just her “mom instincts” coming out to play. Yeah, that seemed more like it.

“Don’t bullshit me, flower power, I know I’m asking for a lot.” – the tattooed woman intervened, brashly, as expected, and Bea has never been more grateful for one of those rare moments of awareness and empathy from her. “So kick me out of your office anytime—“

“No. No way.” – Allie cut in with a sudden rush of determination, shocking both of her current visitors, who shared the same stunned look and probably the same set of questions. “Not for this, at least. Just to clarify, still not a hippie.” – she added, her lips curving upwards into a small, teasing smile meant just for Franky.

The blonde then lifted her gaze from the papers on her desk that she was studying just a second ago to face Franky again, blissfully unaware of her entire mannerisms and energy... _changing._

“What you…what you want do for Bridget…It’s uh..”

That…that soft, _serene_ look. Needless to say, déjà-vu struck Bea like a lightning to the heart, rendering her speechless. She couldn’t do anything to shake a very similar image playing in her mind, like a movie stuck on replay. By now, Allie wasn’t looking anywhere in particular, maybe slightly far ahead, like she was in a trance or something.

She wanted that look on _her_ , instead. Like last time.

The "why" was somewhere in a dark, remote corner of her mind. It petrified her, almost made her run for the door right there but it still wasn't nearly frightening enough to pull her away from everything Allie right now. She wanted to. She tried. No muscle reacted.  

“It’s more than most people would do.” – Allie finished with a practiced smile, civil and casual to anyone else _but_ Bea. “You’re lucky to have each other.”

Because she _just_ saw that same hint of stifled hurt in her eyes that may or may not have haunted her for minutes, hours, maybe even days. Second time around, it destroyed her even more.

“….with or without the flowers. But luckily for you, I got you on that.”

 _Now_ she had to look away. Because she couldn’t help but wonder if _anyone_ ever bothered to do even a tenth of this for Allie.  

When she obviously did it for _everyone_ else.

“So consider me your right-hand woman for anything you want, okay?"

She suspected the answer was no. A resounding, deafening, tormenting  _no_. She couldn't think of anything more unfair than that. Then again, life did have a way of being unfair in general - least to her. But that was different. Allie didn't deserve this. Someone like her had to be the last person in the world to deserve it. 

"We’re going to make your fiancée very happy.”

And the fact that she was back to wedding planning-mode and her chirpy self in a matter of seconds wasn’t lost on Bea. It only added to the crushing weight currently pushing on her chest. She suspected that was _her_ mask. She wore it well, like everything else. But _she_ saw, maybe because she knew what masks looked like better than anyone else.

She didn't wear them half as gracefully as her. 

“Damn, Novak, you really are a fairy, aren’t ya?” – Franky praised in her characteristic, way too loud manner. It was the first time since walking in here when Bea and her shared approximately the same look. “You know, if I wasn’t getting hitched and _this_ one over here wouldn’t crack my skull, ribs and every other bone in my body, I could totally kiss you right now—“

Surely enough, Bea _could_ have killed her on the spot...if her hands weren’t frozen by her sides, along with her entire brain. That and she was too busy reaching new dimensions of scarlett. Because she was getting angry again. Of course.

“I’d prefer you didn’t.” – Allie replied, visibly amused yet flattered at the same time.

Bea couldn’t have masked that audible, even loud exhale betraying utter relief even if she practiced a million times in the mirror. Because that particular mental image was on her top 5 list of most life scarring things she ever pictured.

“Before I leave ya to it, goldilocks.…” – Franky began, her business mode making a triumphant, but limited return. She had one final point on her to-do-list she needed to cross off, stat. “Table arrangements are done, you’ll be hanging out with soon-to-be wifey and me, Maxie, Boomer, your plus-one and stick-in-the-mud-over here. Just need you to give me his…” – she trailed off, only to allow a very provocative smirk to take over her entire smartass face. “Or _her_ name.”

By this fine moment, Bea’s entire mental search history spelled _“murder ideas that inflict the most amount of pain.”_

“I still don’t have one, Franky, I’m sorry…” – Allie apologized, sincerely, shifting her weight from one leg to another, imitating the pose of a scolded child. She was also unconsciously fixing her hair all shyly and...

_Adorably?_

That thought was enough to anchor Bea, if only for a moment. She mentally crossed off _“guillotine.”_

“And are you sure? I mean, you guys are family, I wouldn’t wanna intrude, I’ve only known you and Bridget for like a few weeks—“

Of course Allie would be considerate of  _this_ too. Of course. Bea was pretty sure Allie didn’t have a single unkind or disrespectful bone in her entire flawless body.

_Her what now?_

“Nonsense, firecracker, anyone who goes to these lengths for my wedding deserves a place at the blessed table. “

Bea gulped nervously, staring at her best friend, silently pleading with her despite not having said a single word in ages. Because she was starting to realize what that would entail.

Seeing Allie all night. Being around _her_ every second.

Seeing Allie with her plus-one. Being around _them_ every second.

Because she'd find someone, eventually. How could she not?

She downed that still hot, previously forgotten tea in her hand so fast it managed to burn everything in its path, from her lips down to her throat – and not even that sensation managed to distract her or calm her down.

Her heart felt like it just got stomped. Violently. And she couldn’t mask it now, not even to herself. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with it, after all. Because this was a throbbing ache she’s never felt before and she got up close and personal with every type of physical pain ever invented. She would have taken a cracked rib over this any day.

“And what do you mean you still don’t have one, do you wanna get murdered right now? I need the final table arrangements ready _today_ or I will lose my shit. Do you have _any_ idea how many things I still have to get done—“

Franky’s ear-piercing whining (more like crying) brought Bea out of her own head, causing it to buzz even more. But not even that could erase the mental images still daring to torture her, all involving Allie dancing, laughing, being happy with…someone.

Someone _else._

Someone who was everything _she_ wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, honestly, I swear I was gonna get to that but between all of these bridezillas and sleeping like two hours a night—“

This time around, _her_ voice was enough to draw the crazy nonsense out. Bea was too busy staring at an apologetic-looking Allie like she put up every star in the sky to entertain anything else. Weirdly enough, it seemed like Franky was caving too - not even hurricane Doyle could resist the blonde's guilty puppy face.

“Fine, you’re forgiven, blondie, but only cuz you look even worse than me. I get it. But can’t you find someone like…today? You’re a hot piece, just go outside for fuck’s sake. “

Or maybe not. Bloody idiot just _couldn’t_ let it go, could she?

Bea could have flung her into space with her own two hands. She even pictured it – movie effects and soundtrack included. The fragile hold she still had on her Franky rage was wearing dangerously thin. She loved her best friend. But she never wanted her to flee a room more than now. Maybe go down to the drugstore, pop a Xanax or something.

“As much as I appreciate the compliment—“

Poor Allie tried, hoping flattery would let her off the hook but Bea knew better. There was no stopping Doyle in wedding planning mode and this innocent, unsuspecting, _pure_ soul was just about to see it.

“I can find you 10 fellas or 10 ladies right now, just give me 5 sec. If this one did and she’s a stubborn asshole, finding you one will be a walk in the park.”

Bea was turning so ghostly pale by the second that she challenged the whole definition, even meaning of the phrase. She was reaching unimaginable shades of white.

“Come on, Red, chop chop, need me a new set of eyes. Butch or lipstick, goldie—“

For reference purposes, if you placed her alongside a piece of chalk, you wouldn’t be able to find a single difference. Maybe one – the chalk would pale in comparison.

“Oh, how could I forget. Sorry….femme? More your speed? Flowery enough for ya? Just say the word--”

Because the idea of her best friend setting the blonde up with anyone and dragging her along for the ride to stand by and enjoy the horrifying show caused her entire chest to bubble with… _rage?_ And _sadness?_ She was too busy nearly fainting right there to notice a similar flash of hurt making a visible dent in the blonde’s professional façade.

She then realized…Franky still thought _she_ had someone. Because she lied to her to get her off her back. Because she was a terrible best friend.

“Aren’t you presumptuous, Ms. Doyle.” – Allie chuckled uncomfortably at Franky’s obvious implying (and flawless guessing) of her sexuality. It wasn’t even a shadow of her real laugh. That delayed, strained reaction wasn’t fooling anyone, either.

Bea hated how fast she caught up on all of that. It was almost like she was in tune with Allie’s every emotion. And right now, they were both miserable. If only they knew it was for the exact same reason.

“I’m never wrong about these things. And I already go by Mrs. Doyle now, better ring to it.”

Unbeknownst to both Bea and Allie, their hurt expressions at the prospect of the other being set up with anyone else mirrored each other like their self-inflicted torture was cut from the same cloth. Unsurprisingly, the only person in the room who noticed was the queen of all matchmakers herself who just received her cue to deliver the final blow.

“So, a lady. You heard the lady, let’s go, Red.” – Franky added with a devilish smirk plastered on her face, already grabbing a certain stunned redhead by the collar who seemed too distracted and sullen to even oppose her. “Give us 5 seconds—“

“Franky, wait, I have to tell you something—“

Or not.

The all-knowing brunette let go of her best friend’s frame with a practiced, eerily suspicious calm. She took a deep breath, shot a glimpse down to the floor, then stared back up purposely slow, before a massive grin set on her face. Somehow, she looked even _more_  threatening (and terrifying) that way. In a flash, she lifted her hands up in the air, her hair flying in thunderous rage in all directions.

“I was wonderin’ when you’d come around.” - she spat, incredulously, taking her usual snark to never-before-seen levels. Her even more pronounced, comedic hand movements would have been hilarious to Bea in any other context – if she wasn’t busy being 80% scared for her life right now.

“Lyin’… liar…. who…lies.” – the brunette towered over her, emphasizing her every word by tapping Bea’s chest with her pointer finger rhythmically. “I know you’ve been bullshitting me for weeks, _dimwit_ , you have a tell. No wonder your initials are BS, Red.”

Make that 99%.

Bea took a few shaky steps back, not even trying to mask her guilty-as-charged expression, as an amused (and incredibly relieved) Allie watched on.

“Sorry, Franky, I know, I _suck_ —“

The blonde was also secretly finding everything about Bea’s current reaction just..soul-meltingly adorable.

“Ya both wanna bury me right now, is that it?” – the frantic soon-to-be bride fired more venom in an even thicker accent than usual. “Ya want my wedding to be in the afterlife? Huh? After-party on Franky’s tombstone?” – she stared at the ceiling, like she was begging to be saved by the good Lord above.

Right _now_ or so help her, she’d take these two clueless idiots, handcuff them together, sit their asses down at the guest table and smash their idiot lips together herself.

Two guilty gazes belonging to the aforementioned idiots briefly settled on each other, before cautiously facing the livid brunette once again.

“Have you two planned this or something?” – Franky calmed down just enough to twist the metaphoric knife even more, staring at her current companions accusingly and shamelessly. Because the only planner in this room was _her._

Allie and Bea were starting to look like two children scolded by their mom for leaving dirty dishes in the sink when…

“That’s _it_ , you’re going together.”

The other shoe dropped.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chicago PD gave my OTP the #ChanelTreatment today. It inspired me to do the same for Bea and Allie now. If Wentworth couldn’t…oh well, hold my beer.
> 
> P.S. Hint #2: Read between the lines. This is another stepping stone for this story. More like a boulder :D

_"That’s it, you’re going together.”_

“What?”

“What?

And voilà – stage 3 – executed to perfection.

The horrified pair was too preoccupied and utterly shocked to even register a smirking Franky rubbing her hands together victoriously (externally) to go with her internal high-five – let’s call it the icing on the matchmaker’s cake.

If we were to rewind and look through the sneaky eyes of the planner herself, these would be the stunningly accurate pictures she’d gracefully paint for us…

 **Idiot #1** : Mouth could turn into a flytrap. Has not moved for an entire minute. Whiter than the walls of this place, Starbucks, yoga classes and avocado toast, combined. Chances to faint? 99.9%.

 **Idiot #2:** Mouth could turn into a flytrap. Looks to flowers to calm down. Not working. Straightens shoulders, rubs neck, stares to the ceiling. Chances to faint? 85% and increasing.

“Oh, jeez, how did I not think of this before? You’re a genius, Franky.” – the cheeky brunette broke the ice (more like iceberg) using puppet hands to prove her point. “Oh, thanks, Franky.” That and talking to herself in third person because she needed  _one_ conversation that didn’t make her veins pop.

She also needed to fill that heavy, loaded, monumental quiet with….something.

Because her spider senses could never be completely turned off by her anger – and not even the sharpest knife in her restaurant could cut through the thick, magnetic tension rapidly filling every space of this room. She could identify at least 3 types – emotional, romantic _and_  sexual. Neither were coming from her. On any other day, that particular knowledge would not fly, she’d even the score right away – too bad she was missing her treasured fiancée to rise to the challenge appropriately.

“This is perfect. Problem solved. By the way, dress code is anything but sweatpants, goldfish, see ya, I’m on a tight schedule here--”

“So I’ve been told.” – Allie was the first to cut through the palpable, crushing awkwardness by sending a reassuring, gentle smile in a dread-stunned Bea’s direction, in spite of herself. Because she just felt every jagged piece of her already messed up heart drop in her chest with a loud bang. It woke every last one of her senses like the coldest shower in recorded history.

Was the prospect of going with her really  _that_ horrifying?

"I don’t..I don’t think that’s a good idea…Mrs. Doyle.”

“You think you’re taunting me with that nickname, Kodak, but keep saying it, I love it. “ – Franky replied, dreamily, completely unfazed by flower of gloom and doom over here. She came prepared for this exact scenario, even brought rainbow-colored mental flash cards.

“It’s Novak---“

“Stop talkin’ nonsense, Kodak. Boomer and Maxie are each other’s plus-one and they’re not together. And you  _are_  going to a lesbian wedding, no one’s gonna give a shit, just go as friends and please put me out of my misery so I can move on to photos already—“

_Friends?_

“Y-yeah, Franky, I agree.” – Bea cleared her throat a hundred light years later, not missing Allie’s fallen expression, her chances to faint still at a steady 80%. Only now, that lightheadedness still swirling in her brain was doubled by a knot rising in her throat, choking her words. The idea of going with her had to be torture for the blonde for obvious reasons so she needed to shut it down, right now. “I don’t think  _Allie_ ’s gonna--“

“Blondie…enlighten me, would the prospect of being this asshole’s sidekick to my cherished event, by any chance, present any interest to you so I can have  _one_ thing done today?” – the future bride interrupted steadfast with a never-before-seen level of boldness, even for her. She even used formal language to match Allie’s more refined words.

What the tactless, overwrought brunette suspected, however, was entirely correct - the more formally Allie addressed her, the more annoyed she actually was. Let’s call it  _her_  defense. Bea wasn’t the only one in this room who would have gladly put the tattooed woman through a window….and a wall…and the whole building…and three more buildings down the street.

“Would the bride like to drop dead before the wedding? ‘Cause I’m offering my services,  _gladly_ —“

With that scathing intervention, Bea matched and voiced one of Allie’s…many thoughts, one that was rapidly losing any relevant space in her disarrayed head. She had other, more important things on her mind. And Franky was not one to be kept waiting for an answer – that bulging vein on her temple was already about to burst.

“Well I...why not, I mean? If this is about me, I…I wouldn’t mind at all, I mean what’s to mind, right?“

It was  _nowhere close_  to what she really wanted to say. She dreamed of throwing herself through that window now. Franky could wait her turn.

It was still  _everything_  Bea needed to hear and didn’t even know she did.

It was also the first moment she breathed normally since walking in here. Not something we could say about a particular blonde who  _never_  stuttered like a teenager because she couldn’t coordinate her breathing with her words. Maybe there was a start for everything.

“I’m uh…” – the flower girl nibbled on her bottom lip, anxiously. “I’m in if you are?”

Nevermind. Allie’s eyes shifting unnoticed, turning to face her without as much as a warning  did not help the redhead’s breathing situation either.

“R-really?”

Neither did the blonde suddenly looking at her like she was the only person in the room and that little hint of  _something_ that slipped into her voice. She didn’t sound unhappy or resentful at all. Why  _wasn’t_ she?

“Yeah…”

Neither did that soft exhale that didn’t betray any hint of anger or disdain whatsoever. But why would Allie want to go through with this? Why would  _anyone?_

_Is she serious right now?_

At this point, the florist was rubbing her hands together, staring down timidly then back up, making way for that encouraging, comforting smile of hers and that…that radiant spark in her eye to shine through again. Bea couldn’t have dismissed the tremble that just shook her entire body even if she wanted to.

Because it was directed at  _her._

And this time, she didn’t have it in her to look away.

“But if it’s too weird—“

And….moment over.

Allie  _had_  to be returning to her senses and realizing she could do some much better, even if just for one night. Least that’s what Bea thought, until someone she forgot was there (or even existed anymore, for that matter) spoke again, causing her previous headache to return full-force, like a sledgehammer.

“Why would it be weird, blondie?”

_Maybe because of your rampant, flaming sexual tension?_

“Well, we…we don’t know each other…”  - the shop owner stammered then paused, unconsciously biting her bottom lip even harder – another nervous tick of hers. “…that well. And I’m sure Bea would prefer to do this with someone she’s close to, right?”

_Someone she loves._

_Someone who loves her._

With that shaky addition, Allie turned to face a still incredibly jittery, even more distracted redhead again who seemed to be avoiding her glance on purpose. Everything about her now reminded the blonde of her previous visit here – it was the worst moment to think about  _that_.

“Well you’ve just excluded half of the world’s population, goldilocks, this one hates everyone--“

“Oh will you just fuck  _off_ already—“

As it turns out, not even the most distracted shade of Bea could ever be too absent to snap at Franky. Luckily, she also caught the brunette putting her hands up in (fake) surrender, then shrugging indifferently. Good. She’s done enough damage already. She had no idea the future bride was only just beginning. That, and she was having the time of her life.

“I..uh…I could say the same for you, Allie.” – Bea eventually answered, reluctantly holding the younger woman's warm, much too inviting gaze, shifting her weight from one leg to the other like she lost the ability to feel half of her body. Maybe she should get a check-up on those limbs, too.

“Well…that’s…that’s not a lot of people for me, either.” – the (still) nervous, stuttering florist smiled sheepishly, but her encouraging words fell on deaf ears.

Bea wouldn’t have any of it. Someone like Allie had to have a million options, she had to have women fawning over her left and right. Just because she was too busy to find one didn’t mean she couldn’t. So then why was she so nice and modest, even dismissive about it?

More importantly, why wasn’t she putting up  _more_ of a fight?

“Great, then it’s settled. We’ll be in touch, blondie, I owe you one for everything you’re doing for me.”

With that closing comment, Franky was already one foot out the door. Allie had no way of knowing that she was also talking about her best friend. Because the more time the tattooed woman spent in this room, the more she suspectedthis one would make her very happy someday. Someday soon, if she stuck to her plan.

But, in true Franky fashion, she couldn’t settle for what the good Lord already gave her, take it, say thank you, take a bow and walk away. No, she  _had_  to push her luck because she wanted to see how far it could go. Because she just received another divine message from Him in the form of a brand new strike of genius. Should’ve brought a helmet too for this scenario, but she’d have to make-do.

“Let me know how I can make it up to ya,  _sweet-cheeks_ , already got my number, call me at any and all hours of the night—“ – the soon-to-be bride batted her eyelashes at a very confused-looking Allie, swayed her hips suggestively, winked with purpose, then started a count-down in her head.

3….2…..1….

“I  _swear_ to God, Franky---”

Right on time.

“Jeez, Red, might as well draw a map around her, y’know, to mark your territory…?“ - Franky ran her tongue across her teeth, before licking her lips and smiling, tauntingly. She  _was_ serious about the whole “push her buttons until she surrendered”thing.

It was working. Spectacularly.

Bea froze dead in her tracks, paled into the 9th dimension again, before fixing her hair, readjusting her collar and straightening her shoulders. That’s  _it._

She didn’t know if it was Franky being even  _more_  of a pig than usual, the tension she’s been accumulating since walking in here or even her own internal conflicts involving a certain someone but…before she could even think, her pent-up anger boiled over and she snapped like a burst open can of soda.

She was up in Franky’s face faster than you could say “Xanax” which they could both probably use right now.

“How ‘bout I draw a map on  _your_ face?”

The livid redhead was too busy nearly combusting to see anything else, her anger eclipsing all objects and moving frames in her peripheral vision, including all the ways that same certain someone plaguing her every thought was starting to look at  _her._

“Wanna connect some bruises, huh, do a lil’ treasure hunt?”

Because Allie was pretty sure she just got whiplash. She blinked once or twice, backpedaling physically in her seat and mentally at the same time, before settling for watching the exchange before her quietly. Maybe with a touch of awe, too, at the same time.

Because Bea had to be doing all of this for  _her_ , to make sure  _she_  was comfortable, even shielding her from unwanted advances for…how many times now? She couldn’t remember anyone caring enough to do that for her in the past. Usually, that task fell on  _her_  shoulders.

She’s seen quite a few shades of Bea in the short time she’s known her but none of them were so… Angry? Passionate?

“Don’t you have  _somewhere_  to be right now?”

Domineering? Fiery? Scratch that, she was  _hotter_  than the sun.

Allie had no safety gear whatsoever.

“Wouldn’t  _you_  want me out of here, Red…wink wink.”

She was also starting to catch on to the nickname – Bea did look like she was seeing red right now. And the image was making the blonde see _her_  through even clearer heart-shaped glasses.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what exactly about my tone made you think  _that_  was a request?”

Okay, maybe not  _just_  heart-shaped glasses. Allie was pretty sure  _she_ was on fire now, too. She thought the air conditioning in here was finally decent but…maybe not.

Bea towering over Franky, breezing past the apparent height disadvantage and grabbing her by the collar, shooting threatening (and sexy) daggers with her eyes did not help. In the slightest.

“Which. part. did. I. not. make _._ obvious _,_ you nosy  _moron_?”

Neither did that rhythmic punctuation matching Allie’s every frantic heartbeat, spreading even more heat to every one of her tissues.

“I  _wasn’t_ asking.”

Neither did that scratchy, rough edge taking over Bea’s normally low, hoarse voice.

“So for  _once_  in your life, Franky..”

Not only did it not help, it only made Allie’s… _situation_ worse. By this point, not even a full blast of Arctic wind would cool her down.

“Mind your goddamn business.”

She was hyperventilating to oblivion, fortunately just internally (or so she hoped). She’s never been more grateful for these two being too busy nearly clawing each other’s eyes out to even notice how flushed she was getting by the second.

Unknown to Allie, Franky was never too preoccupied fearing for her life to stop sensing these..things. That, and she  _also_ had eyes to the back of her head and an even bigger grin on her face now. She stopped her ranting best friend with a pointed whisper in her ear, despite putting the aforementioned life on the line even more:

_“You might wanna stop before you give blondie a heart attack.”_

“What?”

That even more infuriating grin caused Bea to twist her (former) best friend’s arm around her back, before placing her hand over her obnoxious mouth. Not a second later, she was looking at the blonde apologetically, smiling all… _innocently_.

“Sorry about her, Allie.”

_How does she go from that to…this?_

“Hey…blondie…”

_Why am I into both? Not good._

“Can I get you some water?”

“W-what?”

Allie’s head could have ripped from her neck with how fast her gaze shot upwards from the notes she pretended to scribble down. She dropped the pen she was clutching with an iron grip no more than a second ago on her desk, the momentum causing it to bounce to the floor straightaway. The hectic gesture wasn’t lost on a certain brunette who was biting her tongue to stop a million dirty jokes from coming out.

“You just look really… _thirsty_  to me all of a sudden.”

And failing.

Allie could have killed her, too, if she wasn’t too busy still clearing her throat, internally hyperventilating and externally crossing her legs… _professionally._  She did picture a darts game with the future bride’s face on it. And she had perfect aim.

“Oh, so  _now_  you’re polite? Really?”

As expected, the blatant innuendo flew right over Bea’s head. She was completely oblivious to Allie and Franky’s loaded staring contest.

The former settled for looking anywhere but at the (clueless) object of her…affection…and  _desires..._ and everything in between. She cleared her throat again, then shook her head to get… _whatever_ images she might still have in there out, before she stood up a little straighter, eye-ing her not-so-pleasant other guest with a steely (yet still magically polite) glance.

“How considerate,  _Mrs. Doyle_. I’m fine.”

What she didn’t bother to notice was Bea following her every move. The blonde looked calm enough to her but her shoulders were still tense and she did add an extra kick to that…nickname. She supposed that was flower girl’s version of annoyed. Unsurprisingly, Allie was too nice to pull a show like the one she just did. Of course.

“So….” – Franky announced, with finality in her tone, deciding she had gotten even more from her plan than she bargained for. “This was fun, minions, but I have a photographer to catch. Toodles. Need a ride back, grouchy?"

“Go ahead, I’ll catch you later…or  _never_. “ – Bea scorned. Now her temple vein matched Franky’s to a T., like they were long-lost siblings.  “Need a word with uh…with Allie.”

“Bet you do. Later, zombie-locks. Seriously, get some sleep.” – Franky waved over her shoulder.

Allie’s full fledged glare from before only intensified, burning holes in her back. And this time, Bea saw it. She was losing her cool, too – in more ways than one.

“I could say the same for you,  _Amy_   _Half-House_.” – she bit back, dropping any and all traces of professionalism.

By now, the redhead was staring even harder. She blinked in confusion, before taking a step back. She was pretty sure  _that_  was the first time she’s heard Allie get… sassy. Of course she pulled that off perfectly too, why wouldn’t she? It even gave her a touch of… _something_ else. She didn’t know what that was but it…wasn’t out of place…? At all?

“I assume you know your way out…or do you need me to leave some breadcrumbs for ya?”

It looked good on her, like everything else. Because it was a character trait she tended to notice and appreciate on… _people._ In general. Gives them a backbone. And a personality. Not  _just_  Allie. Because that would be crazy.

“You bet your ass I know my way around a hot chick’s office—“

Not even her previous, appreciative thoughts could have stopped Bea’s ears from reacting abruptly to that scratchy, nails-on-a-chalkboard voice or her rage from returning full-force.

_That’s it, I’m killing her—_

Wouldn’t be hard at all, she had 50 plans already mapped out, down to the last gruesome detail. She just needed to catch that smirking, tone-deaf, impertinent asshole---

All of those plans faded into nothingness and flew out the window when she felt a soft, feather-light touch on her upper back, causing her mind to go blank, effectively stopping her dead in her tracks, freezing her entire body mid-motion in more ways than one.

“S-sorry…I uh…sorry.” – the author behind the calming gesture stuttered involuntarily, a stark contrast to what she displayed earlier.

“She’s gone. I just...I wanted to stop you.” – she added, retreating her hand as if struck by lightning, as Bea turned to face her, matching her jumpiness perfectly, like they were two sides of the same coin.

Because whatever that was, it struck  _her_  too. So much so that her rage instantly fell down from 200000% to 70%.

“You just..you looked like you wanted to set her on fire or something.” – Allie explained her previous gesture even more, fumbling with her sleeves and looking down all cute, like a real-life puppy.

_Along with me._

“I’m fine.” – Bea answered, dismissively on surface, but with stifled anger still dripping from underneath. “I _will._ ” - she clarified, dead serious.

Allie believed her. She would.

“Just gotta let her become  _Mrs. Doyle_ first.” _–_ she bit back again, with a perfectly-timed eye-roll _._  “After that, it’s gasoline and fireworks.”

The even more smitten blonde chuckled lightly and Bea smiled back, briefly, before returning to her previous sentiments. Apparently, even if Franky wasn’t here anymore, physically, she still lingered on every corner, like a fly on the wall. Same thing applied to the entire surface of Bea’s throbbing head – that obscene jackass wasstill tap-dancing all over it.

“I’m so sorry about her, Allie, she’s such a—“

To be fair, the dumbfounded florist was still too shocked to register a lot of what Bea was saying. She didn’t remember anyone getting this riled up over her or even caring enough to…defend her honor? It almost felt like Bea was  _also_ staking her claim on her or something. It was probably unintentional of her but it still felt like it.

Not that she’d even have to. She was already taking over every part of Allie, with no chance in hell of stopping anytime soon.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’m used to that, even if she  _did_  turn it up a few notches today. Not offended, seen her around Bridget, she’s all talk anyway.” – she reassured, verbally, but it didn’t do nearly enough.

Bea’s rage-o-meter now spelled exactly 50%. The fact that she was still at it minutes after Franky already left made her _even_  hotter to Allie than before.

“You know, you’d think, you'd  _think_ she’d learn manners in 28 years but noo---“

She was breaking the Fahrenheit scale in the blonde’s head right about…

“How can you marry someone  _so_  sophisticated and not have a _single,_ and I mean, a _single_  drop of it rub off on you? God--“

Now.

_Yeah, that crush is not going anywhere._

And maybe it was precisely that realization, blended with a mild touch of genuine concern that made Allie throw caution to the wind, if only for a moment. Wordlessly, she inched closer to a still ranting Bea whose hands were now clutching her painful temples. She took a deep breath to compose herself, maybe drive away her own share of nerves, before she covered them with her own. Sensing no resistance, she slowly took them down, making any and all words die on Bea’s lips right there.

“Hi…”

The entranced blonde was too focused on the task at hand to even hear Bea’s breath hitching in her throat. She then went on to rub the redhead’s forearms reassuringly, before reaching for her hands again, bringing them forward towards her, holding them with a shaky, but gentle grip.

Bea faltered, calmed down instantly then melted altogether. She opened her mouth to say something, anything. No sound echoed back. She forgot what she was even ranting about. It seemed so  _important_  just a second ago.

“H-hey..”

It wasn’t anymore. She was seeing  _blue_ now.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

She was… _now._

By this point, the blonde was also drawing lazy circles on her palms, calming down her previous fire with every passing second until there was nothing left of it, not even a dim light. Bea was rendered speechless, too shocked to do anything, least of all think. She was pinned to that single spot, failing to move. If she wasn’t still hearing the sound of her own heart buzzing in her ears clear as day, she could have sworn she stopped breathing altogether.

“Y-yeah. “

Because whatever shaky words magically escaped her lips didn’t sound like her own at all. Allie was… _everywhere_  now, from her perfume making her lightheaded to those disheveled strands of blonde hair that would have looked messy on anyone else to those radiant, glowing shades of blue, each brighter than the previous one. She was so close she could count her eyelashes, tell every nuance apart, drown even more.

Allie was invading her every sense. And she didn’t want her to stop.

“Thanks, Allie...”

Why didn’t she want  _her_  to leave? She wanted everyone else to.

“You had two children in your office today.”

Allie was also  _too_ close. Bea had to shake her head and look away. But she still couldn’t take a single step back, no matter how much she needed to.

“I’m really sorry...” – she ducked her head, causing a stubborn curl to fall upon her face, hiding it even more.

“You have to stop apologizing to me.” – Allie tilted her chin, forcing her eyes to inch upwards before fixing her hair, her fingers brushing against her skin a little too long to be  _just_  friendly.

“R-right.”

Not a second later or an eternity if we were to go by Bea’s skewed sense of time, the younger woman was already letting go of her other hand and sending her a playful wink over her shoulder.

Rage-o-meter? 0%. A never before seen value for her.

“And I don’t really mind one of them.”

“If it’s Franky, I’m gonna break your heart. She’s already ashes in my head.”

“Good thing it’s not.”

Bea was too busy picking her metaphorical (and physical) jaw off the floor to even register when and how Allie returned to her chair and switched back to her professional mode. She was already taking a sip of her previously forgotten coffee and rearranging some papers she might have ruffled unconsciously before.

“So…spit it out, Bea. Say what you wanna say..” – Allie called out, motioning for Bea to sit down in front of her, the déjà-vu of their current positions not lost on either of them.

“Hmm..?”

The still stunned redhead simply looked at her, quizzically. The flower girl's tone seemed neutral enough but she sensed some stifled dejection in there, too. It was scary how she was beginning to read everything Allie said or did…even what she  _didn’t_ say or do with stunning accuracy.

Well… _almost_  everything.

“You think it’s a terrible idea, don’t ya?”

“What?”

“You and me.”

Bea could have cracked her entire neck, spine and every other bone in her body, that’s how fast her gaze shot up from that fascinating floor capturing all of her attention just a moment ago.

“W-what?”

“Going to this thing together.”

_What did you think she meant, Red?_

Great, her weird Franky alter-ego making a triumphant return  _now._  As if the real life version didn’t mess things up enough.

“W-why would I think that?” –she shook her head to get all the Franky out (and failing miserably). A blow torch would have helped.

"Well I…I don’t wanna ruin this for ya. “ – the blonde explained, regretfully, blaming herself for this whole situation. “I’m sure you can think of a million other people you’d rather do this with—“

Bea wouldn’t have a shred of it. She couldn’t hear  _anyone_  doubting or bad-mouthing Allie, not even Allie herself.

“No, not really. And why would you ruin anything for me?”

“Just something I’m really good at, usually. Even got trophies in my room to show for it.” - the florist meant it as a self-depreciating joke, but it wasn’t  _her_  joke.

It had to be something the whole world said to her. The fact that she was also starting to believe it stung Bea like nothing else because  _she_  got it. No one could relate more than her.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Plus, I could say the same for you.”

Now Alliewouldn’t have any of it.

“Nah, no chance in hell, you could  _never_  ruin anything for me. And anyone would be lucky to do this with you, for the record.”

That solid, unwavering conviction in her voice made Bea’s eyes water on sight. Her ruin-everything track record was flawless but this woman who she suspected was all heart and manners thought otherwise because she didn’t know  _anything_ about her. It was a lie – one that was comforting to hear nonetheless. For some reason, she wanted, ached for Allie to hold on to  _that_  picture of her, even if it wasn’t real at all.

Because that picture was beautiful.

“But I don’t want this to be something you’re forced into or—“

_No forcing occurred, trust me._

“It’s not…well, it might have been at first but I…I don’t mind either.”

“Can I have that in writing?”

This time, Bea laughed, her still glazed eyes heavy with nothing but meaning, doubled by sincere appreciation. If her current company noticed the change, she stayed quiet.

“Hope you don’t take this the wrong way but…you’re kind of a nerd, Allie, anyone ever tell ya that?”

“No one  _that_  beautiful did. And no offense taken.”

_Smooth again, blondie._

_Teach me one or two things, will ya._

“I’m..really not.” – Bea looked down, still failing to drown the remains of Franky from her mind.

“Okay,  _now_ you’ve offended me. In Sydney _and_  the rest of the world, people say thank you to compliments. It’s the polite thing to do, what were you saying about manners?”

Allie had a point. It also helped that she was very cute in making it.

“Fine.… _nerd_.” – the redhead thought she was insulting, but the fact that she said it with absolutely no fire wasn’t lost on a particularly happy nerd who was now touching her heart, dramatically, feigning hurt feelings.

“Anyways uh…I know Doyle’s an ass but…aside for the torture she just put you through she’s…she’s also right, okay? Please get some sleep…?”

_I’m worried about you._

_Believe me, I’m trying._

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine...”

She knew Allie was lying – she had a tell, her eyes trailed to the left just a second before facing her again. That was her…thing. And Bea was too preoccupied for her health to even stop and ask herself how she even knew it, when she identified it or why she cared so much.

Maybe she  _was_ concerned after all…because the blonde was her plus-one too, now. So she had a valid reason to care. Right.

“Just gonna tryextra hard, now that you asked so nicely.” – the younger woman answered in her dorky way, swaying her arm and raising a weak fist in air.

“Anything I can help with?”

In all honesty, she just wanted to return the favor. Allie  _did_ help her just now…that was the only reason she was offering.

_Psst…hey, Red, I have some obvious ideas for ya ---_

“I don’t thinkanyone can but…thanks. Appreciate it.”

She replied casually and dismissively enough, even added a playful eye-roll to that, like it was not even a big deal, but Bea saw right through her. It had to be. But it wasn’t her place to ask again. And Allie? She was too touched that she even bothered to ask or try. People usually didn’t. Unless they got something out of it.

“Suit yourself. Anyways I uh..I should get going, too —“

That awful string of words and Bea already darting for the door caused the blonde’s chaotic brain to stop working altogether right there, overrun by…panic, above everything else. She spoke before she even realized what she was saying and  _why._

“Do you _have_  to..? Cause I was thinking maybe you could uh…stick around for a bit? I mean it’s fine if you can’t but—“

_Please don’t go._

Bea turned on her heel almost on cue. Because she heard  _that._

“Haven’t I taken enough of your time?”

Sheheard  _something_ switch in Allie again. And now she was seeing it, too - the flower girl appeared sullen, melancholic even. And if Bea learned one fact by now, it was that something in her reacted to sensing those emotions in Allie instantly…like they were _her own._

“You could never. Plus….” – the blonde checked her wristwatch. “You are here on after-hours by now anyway.”

“Do you live here, Allie?” – Bea teased her, hoping  _that_  would bring back the sun, even if just a little.

“I guess you could say that.”

It didn’t. That downcast, crestfallen response and the sight that came along with it only made it worse. Bea had to avert her eyes – if there was something else she learned it was that she couldn’t look.

_I don’t really like going home to an empty house…_

….was what Allie  _really_ wanted to say.

Sensing her discomfort, Allie spoke again out of guilt if nothing else, much too quickly, forcing a not even halfway convincing smile. She had to woman the hell up and at least  _try._

“I asked cause I....I was thinking we could get to know each other a little…I mean, you  _will_  have to stand me for at least….” – the not-so-chirpy florist scrunched her nose cutely then looked to the ceiling, like she was using a mental pocket calculator. “3 hours by my calculations.”

“Have you  _seen_  my best friend? Trust me,  _you’re_ great.”

By comparison _…_ was what she meant. By the time she heard herself speak, it was already too late to take it back. A brief hint of realization flashed across her eyes and Allie smiled like the Cheshire Cat.

“Way to brighten a girl’s day indeed.”

“Wow, your expectations are low.”

“I'll pretend I didn’t hear that. “ – the blonde dismissed that smartass, self-depreciating comment, before rubbing her hands together, no trace of her former gloom to be found anymore. “So….10 questions?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, humor me, Bea, come on.”– Allie ignored Bea’s unimpressed, are-you-serious tone once again, then nearly jumped in her seat like the excited flowery child she was. And it wasn’t long before that familiar flash of almost blinding light returned to her eyes.

“Alright.”

The dazzled redhead would comply to anything she asked if it meant _that_  stayed exactly where it was.

....where it seemed to belong.

"Day or night?"

"Night. Everything's quiet..." - Bea replied with a soft exhale, looking towards the window from where she was sitting, as one of the flickering afternoon lights from outside cast a soft, golden hue on her.  

_Unlike now._

"Same...really gives you time to think, huh?" - Allie stared, mesmerized by the angelic, heart-stopping view, barely getting the words out. She spoke quickly, more to the floor, just to stop herself from looking again.  “Cats or dogs?”

It didn’t work. She was still stealing fugitive, guilty glances of Bea’s profile, half of her face still engulfed in light, giving her already kind, inviting brown eyes even more warmth.

“Both, you?”

“Cats. I’m a cliché. But I might entertain a dog too…”

Bea didn’t know anything about the cliché she was referring to but whatever she thought Allie to be, it certainly wasn’t clichéd in nature. Clichés implied something boring, something you can predict or see coming from a mile away. With her, she couldn’t predict  _anything_.

“…for the  _right_  person.”

Needless to say, Bea also graciously failed to read between the lines.

“What do you value more – honesty or your personal feelings?”

“I don’t have feelings so I will have to go with honesty.” – she said it with a straight, neutral face. Of all people, _she_  had to be the picture of honesty right now.

“Funny. Could have fooled me.”

_Or not?_

“What?”

“You know, you and Franky earlier..?”

“Oh, that…”

Which was so  _far away_  from her mind now.

“You?”

“Honesty. My personal feelings don’t really tend to matter anyway…”

Bea wanted her to elaborate on that but…

“’Kay, uh…Movies or TV shows?”

The blonde dropped the subject and she missed her chance to ask.

“Both…?”

Allie’s lips began to curve upwards…

“Neither..?. I don’t know…not really a fan.”

Allie’s entire face dropped to the floor, transcended that, dropped to the floor below, leaving a visible mark in the shape of a broken heart on every surface along the way.

“I-is there a…a right answer here?” – Bea stuttered, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, thinking she had offended the blonde or something. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Those are the most hurtful words you’ve ever said to me, Bea.”

She did. Allie was dead serious.

“I am wounded beyond repair right now so I just…I need a minute, okay?”

With that, the (now) desolate florist got up from her chair and turned her back on a very confused Bea. She took a few steps forward, facing the window in seemingly deep thought before holding her face dramatically in her hands, like she was mourning and hiding unshed tears. “I can’t even look at you.”

Bea panicked for 0.02 seconds then panicked some more when she saw Allie straightening her previously slumped shoulders then swiftly facing her again with sudden, almost scary determination in her movements. She didn’t know if the flower girl was about to kill her or kick her out of her office…or both, at the same time.

Not a second later, Allie stopped right in front of her with that same mysterious look from before plastered on her face. Without a word, she took hold of one perplex (and scared) redhead’s right hand. Normally, that gesture would be enough to shut Bea’s entire brain down to factory settings but she was oddly aware of everything now.

Because it was the one time she  _couldn’t_  read Allie.

“I need you to remember this as the day you broke my heart.”

And with that, the blonde stared at her even more intently, still in an indecipherable manner…maybe accusingly?

“I’m sorry….?”

Before her entire adorable face broke out into a huge grin.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

Bea didn’t know if  _she_ wanted to kill her now or kick her out of her own office.

“Not entirely, okay?” – her host corrected, stifling a laugh, too focused on explaining herself to realize she didn’t let go of Bea’s hand at all. The latter was painfully aware of it. “We have to fix that. We  _must.”_

_We._

“And cutting the blood flow to my arm is going to help that how exactly?” – the redhead relaxed just enough to tease her back, shakier than she meant, as a light bulb turned in Allie’s head.

"Oh, right. Come on.”

“W-where are we going?”

“My back’s killing me because I’m very old so we’re making ourselves comfortable, part of this whole friendship thing we’re gonna do—“

_Friendship._

_You know, you could always give her a massage, Red--_

“Have a seat.” – Allie commanded, leading her to that same couch that still had a faint, but noticeable trace of Franky’s sneakers on it. Even when she wasn’t physically there, she was still raining on Bea’s parade. That had to be some kind of a skill. If Franky dropped her restaurant business, she could make a fortune out of it.

The awkward older woman reluctantly sat down, maintaining an odd distance, clearly out of her element. She wasn’t nervous at all or anything. She wasn’t starting to sense even more of Allie’s perfume filling her nostrils, either. Oddly enough, the scent made her dizzier and anchored her, all at once.

The exhausted flower girl on the other hand…? She crashed, exhaling loudly and closing her eyes. Somehow, she managed to do even that elegantly.

“Much better.”

She also looked peaceful.. _so_  peaceful.

And  _beautiful._  Not that Bea was tracing her every feature on purpose. Her eyes were focused (more like zoomed-in) on Allie’s tired, ivory-pale face because it was the polite thing to do. It’s polite to look at someone’s face when they talk and count their every breath in your head, right? Their lips, too…?  _She_  had manners. Unlike that uncultured swine that was her best friend.

“Okay, back to the important stuff.” – Allie adjusted her frame just a little, so she was on eye-level with her jittery companion now.  “Okay, we have to fix that, I mean it. I could talk about TV shows forever, alright, you’ll hate my guts—“

_Like I could ever._

“Still not too late to back out, Bea—“

“So I should bring ear plugs then. Problem solved.” – Bea shrugged, dismissing (and solving) that non-problem immediately.

“You’re lucky there’s flowers in here to lift my spirits…” – Allie put her hand up, before pointing at her with her index finger. “Cause _you_  just crushed them.”

“Summer or winter?”

“Summer.”

“Same. There’s just something about it that makes me happy…” – the flower girl gushed on with a brand new, contagious rush of energy, emphasizing her every word with overly enthusiastic, even exaggerated hand gestures. “I mean there’s lights outside, ice-cream, the beach, upbeat music, what’s not to like, huh? Everything just…comes to life.”

 _Lights?_  Bea was pretty sure she didn’t even need them. Not with this dreamy look and… _glow_ she was sporting, out of nowhere. It was a picture she could look at for life. And maybe she was too busy feeling so light and at ease in her presence, like she hasn’t felt around anyone in years to even contemplate how scary that thought really was.

Another addition to her think-about-later box – one she’d probably never, realistically, open.

“You really are a child, aren’t ya?”

Allie shrugged, that non-insult flying right over her head, like an arrow that stubbornly missed its target.

“I will not admit to anything, I love kids, I see no insult. But nice try.”

_I love kids._

She didn’t know why  _that_  was what her disorderly brain decided to focus on, of all things, so she shook her head to get…whatever pictures might have crept up in there – no notice, no warning.

“Snakes – yay or nay?”

“Seriously? Course I hate ‘em, what kinda question  _is_  that, Allie?”– the redhead complained in an aggravated tone, offended she’d even assume otherwise. Nothing about her said snake person….or did it?

“Thank God. Dream job?”

“Not doing anything…” – Bea replied, quickly, before pursuing her lips, pondering even more. Something was missing. “ _And_  getting paid for it.”

_Marry me._

“Shit, be my  _best_ friend, will ya?” – the younger woman laughed sincerely, before wiping her smudged mascara.

 _Friend…_ there goes that word again.

“Well…after today, trading Franky for… _anyone_  sounds tempting.”

Allie chose to ignore that pause and last minute change. She wanted to say “you.” And the thought didn’t do anything to calm down her already erratic heartbeats.

“I’m going to assume that’s a compliment…”

“Assume away…”

“Dream date?”

“November 6th.”

“Oh, come on, Bea, don’t kill my jam, we had a good thing going on, you and me.” – Allie shifted in her seat even more, using her right hand to motion between them, protesting like the woman-child she was.

_You and me._

“Sorry I just... I…”

It wasn’t lost on Allie that Bea faltered and choked on her words almost immediately, her entire energy switching and changing dramatically. She had a feeling she unwillingly touched upon a sensitive subject. It wasn’t her place to pry or even ask but she had to wonder if anyone ruined any dates in the past for this wonderful woman…or  _worse_.

The thought made her heart drop even more, before an anger like no other took over. Her body went numb and she felt her entire throat dry out. She was still lying flat on her back, facing one of the walls above so Bea couldn’t see any of it.

“I don’t know…”

What Allie was blissfully unaware of was that Bea could  _sense_  it. She exhaled heavily, before desperately switching the focus off of her.

“You?”

Allie placed a hand behind her neck, staring at the ceiling even more in deep thought.

“I don’t care. I could watch paint dry as long as it’s with someone I like.”

She still didn’t see Bea but she could almost feel her eye-roll coming from a mile away. Not one to disappoint, she delivered – spectacularly.

“What?”

“Sorry, Allie, that was sweet, I just…my tolerance for sappiness is at an all time-low after today.”

“Oh, and I assume usually it’s at an all-time high?” – the cheeky blonde re-focused on her just to punctuate that with a playful smirk, before looking at the ceiling again.

Bea didn’t know what she wanted more – to wipe it off her face or for it to stay right where it was.

“Shut up.”

It did. Because she had no comeback.

Check and mate.

“Can’t, got…” – Allie trailed off, counting on her fingers, like the massive dork she was. “Two more questions.” – she added, huffing exhaustedly like she just ran a marathon, before blowing a stubborn strand of frizzy hair from her eyes. “We can do this, Bea. Alright. Something that breaks your heart.”

What heart? Oh, the one she should get checked for factory deficiencies – those skipping beats can’t be healthy. Today, preferably. What did they call that in medical lingo? Arrhythmia, maybe?

“I don’t have one so I’ll pass, thank you very much.”

“Really killing my joy over here, Bea.”

“Never too late to back out for you either, Allie.”

“No chance in hell, I need to tell you all about  _The_  Netflix. Fine, I’ll answer then. Letting down someone I care about.”

“Like you could ever let anyone down…”

Another sentence Bea didn’t mean to voice out loud. She face-palmed herself mentally for the millionth time today. She had to have broken some kind of a record. Do they give out Guiness awards for that?

“You’d be surprised.”

It was also the second point she really wished Allie would elaborate on. She didn’t. This time around, Bea was even more upset that she wouldn’t.

“Okay, last question…a hobby?”

“Drawing.”

_Is there anything this woman can’t do?_

“That’s so cool, you should totally draw me sometime.”

Allie totally pictured that happening with all of her clothes on, for the record. Because her mind was not in the gutter at all. She wasn’t thinking of Bea’s previous angry show in any other context or anything of the sorts either.

“Y-you’d want that?”

“Course, you’d make this face look decent. Finally. The world has been waiting for 27 years, Bea--”

_As if I’d even have to try._

“The world can wait some more, then.”

Allie _tried_  to glare. Attempt number 5 – failed. Facial muscles – stuck. Dopey, lovesick smile? Still intact.

“You?”

“Singing in the shower.”

Turns out that gutter was getting crowded. Allie and shower in the same sentence…it was a juxtaposition of random words that didn’t do anything… _special_  to Bea. She was just sporting the entire Shades of Scarlett collection on her face because it was warm in here. She was also clearing her throat and looking at the ceiling in pure fascination because she was admiring the texture…and the…whiteness.

That and tracing a fly that was staring down at her with a…smirk? Maybe that was just Franky, still hovering above, eye-ing her and buzzing in her ears like the nosy fly on the wall she was.

“You’re judging me, aren’t ya?”

“W-what?”

She didn’t even realize her lack of reply and monumental silence until Allie spoke again.

“Well, nonbeliever, I’ll have you know I can belt like no one’s business, a’right, Christina Aguilera’s got nothing on me—“

“Sure.”

“Now that I need to prove myself, you  _will_  hear me sing, Bea. I’ll make you a mixtape.”

_Wouldn’t you like that Red._

_Maybe the live version more?_

The flushed redhead’s face almost matched her hair, by this fine moment. If the younger woman noticed, she didn’t say anything. Maybe because she was still spread out like a lazy cat all over the sofa and her eyes were still semi-closed, like she was in a trance or something, just listening to the sound of Bea’s voice.

That same voice she was having a really hard time finding right now. Bea shook her head, hoping it would clear her mind, too. Apparently, Franky  _was_  hosting that after-party after all. Location? Every corner of her messed-up head, on top of it, front, back and sideways. She could even hear the music playing.

_The…encore?_

_You could make her sing, too, if you know what I--_

She hated that tune.

“And..the results are in….” – the florist announced, proudly, with the matching mannerisms of an SNL host, imaginary microphone in hand. “We have very slim chances of killing each other. Might even…” – she gasped, dramatically. “Have some fun together. Can you imagine the horror?”

“I’m shaking right now. “ – Bea cut in using her trademark, linear and unenthusiastic tone.

Allie raised an eyebrow, still failing to glare properly, barely managing an annoyed grimace.

“In…anticipation?”

She tried again, studying every inch of Bea’s face for…a  _hint._

Nothing. Still poker face town…

“Ooohhh..excitement?”  - the blonde drawled even more, making a pop sound with her lips, drawing even more attention to them. Not that they already held a certain someone’s attention for minutes on end or anything.

“No, it’s cold.”

“It’s not cold. “

Before she could even stop to think, a much too excited Allie was already touching Bea’s arm to prove her point, causing that familiar shiver (more like lightning) from earlier to run straight through her again.  This time, Allie felt it even more than before.

Something changed.

“…l-liar. Okay maybe your hand is a little.”

 _Hers_  wasn’t.

By this stage, the blonde had already put two and two together, catching on to Bea’s reluctance, almost  _fear_ to be touched. She shook and flinched a little almost every time it happened. She didn’t know why but she suspected it was a bit deeper than personal space issues, anxiety, nerves or even anger. She did see Bea go through all the motions before her eyes today…but something about this screamed  _different_.

Nevertheless, that preoccupied thought made Allie’s laughter die down into nothingness, as she let go of Bea’s hand, at the same time the redhead gulped nervously and looked away.

“Oh, hey, Bea…before I forget..” – she broached a new subject almost immediately, to stop herself from thinking about the aftermath of… _whatever_ shook her.

She could still feel her hand tingling all the same.

She wasn’t the only one.

“Hmm?”

“Think you can fix this rat’s nest anytime soon? If we’re uh…”

_We._

“If we’re going to do this, I don’t want you to be seen with this mess anywhere near you. Would ruin your whole…” – Allie adjusted her position to face Bea completely now, scanning her from head to toe, then pointing to her outfit.  “Badass, rock chic aesthetic.”

_Gorgeous aesthetic, too._

“It’s just a leather jacket and jeans, Allie, that’s not even  _how_ badass looks like—“

“Need I remind you what _my_  aesthetic is?”

No need, Bea had memorized everything about her outfit and accessories herself. Because she had a keen interest in clothes and glam. Fashion Week was her kryptonite.

“Hint – it’s hot mess, look at this hair. I..I was gonna call but I haven’t had time to breathe so I thought...since you’re already here, might as well ask. But if you don’t have time, that’s cool too—“

_More hot, less mess, eh, Red?_

“You ramble a lot, Allie, anyone tell you  _that_ too?”

“Too many people to count. Neither as pretty as my current company...” – Allie tried again, waiting on her visitor to catch onto her hint, even nonverbally urging her to.

“Thank you..?”

“There we go.”

_So she’s a fast learner. Good to know._

For the record, Allie’s head was still 50% in the gutter.

“And of course I have time, don’t be stupid.”

_For you._

Not that Allie needed to know she was fully booked for the entire week or anything. Well, she could make an extra effort for her best friend’s…flower girl? Then what did that make Allie to her? Other than her plus-one now.

Her…friend’s friend?

 _Her_ …friend?

Her…plus-friend?

“Come by whenever you want this week. After 5 ok?”

“Alright, sure. Might show up as early as tomorrow to torture ya if  _this_ doesn’t sort itself out.” – the flower girl added, making a disgusted face at her split ends, ignoring her own alter-ego voice screaming in her head:

_Just say “I can’t wait to see you again”, it’s not that hard, Novak, what is wrong with you?_

It had a point. She hated it.

Bea, on the other hand? She didn’t know _why_  she just told Allie to come after hours. On purpose. While no one was going to be there but the two of them, not even Maxine. She must have done it unconsciously. It was just the only open window to fit the blonde’s request into her schedule. It was a logical, practical choice. Yeah, that made perfect sense.

“I really should go, Allie.” – she announced, eventually, needing to figure about a million things out…away from here. “You’ve been too nice today, I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s a skill…”

“ _And_ a curse?”

Allie’s face could have split wide open from that massive grin yet again. It was then that it hit her - she couldn’t name the last time anyone made her smile like this. And she could count her happy moments on one hand.

“And she pays attention to what I say, wow. “ – she bowed, paying her respects and dropping her gaze slightly. Coincidentally, it landed on a specific someone’s lips. “That’s never happened to me before. So we  _are_  getting to know search other. Hope you don’t hate what you see.”

“The jury’s still out.”

“You  _couldn’t_  let me have it, could you?”

Bea might have stifled a smile too…not nearly as stealthily as she would have hoped.

“Need a ride back?” – her polite host offered, yawning all lady-like, then stretching and standing up too. Her eyes turned two shades bluer from the fatigue-induced tears…not that Bea noticed every subtle change in them.

She wasn’t staring anymore, she was already focusing on anything else…like how she’d plan Franky’s funeral down to the last gory detail.

“No, it’s alright, Allie...think I…think I’m gonna walk. Thanks, though. “

She really needed to clear her head. Because she didn’t want to murder Franky before her wedding. No other special reason.

“Still need to cool down, huh?”  - Allie asked, empathically enough…but truthfully? She didn’t know who she was talking to more.

“I’m sorry, w-what?”

Bea clearly interpreted that the way it was meant to be interpreted because why wouldn’t she?

“You and Franky, earlier?”

“Oh, that…”

Which was even _further_ away from her mind now.

It was nowhere near far away for a certain blonde. It might even be at the forefront of her thoughts, if she were to be completely honest.

“No, it’s not just that, it’s..” – Bea faltered, biting her lip to stop herself from saying anything else. That unconscious gesture didn’t help either of them. “This has been the longest day of my life.” – she finished with a heavy sigh, fixing her hair along with it.

“Hope it wasn’t also…the worst…?” – Allie asked, her voice rising in pitch by the end, almost..hopefully? It was an unspoken invitation …

“It  _did_  get better towards the end.”

One Bea did _not_  mean to answer out loud _._  Her mouth was on autopilot while her brain was casually chilling in the backseat. She couldn’t wake him up and she tried, even gave it a mental kick.

“I’m putting that in my diary, Bea—“

She had a mean right hook, even broke Franky’s nose once (by mistake). Still didn’t work. That guy was dead-set on ignoring her.

“Oh come on now, turn around, please don’t rain on my parade again--”

Now her muscles weren’t responding. Because she couldn’t shake that stupid, goofy smile off her face. It almost felt like it was glued shut.

“ _Look at me,_  I’m writing—“

If only Allie knew how much time she spent doing just that.

“I never said it. You have no proof. “ – she called out from the door, still halfway hiding her smile. “See you, Allie. Thanks for not kicking us out today.”

“I wouldn’t dare. See ya, Bea.”

_I knew I should’ve kept a camera in here._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I want you guys to remember this as we go along – what’s not said in this story is even more important than what is told. And what is told never has just one meaning/interpretation. Thank a full week of thunderstorms and heavy rain for this early update. I don’t know what it is about these two and rain for me but it works. Welcome to Allie’s side of things…
> 
> P.S. I suck at replying to individual comments, I try (please forgive this disorganized idiot) but I read all of them so…any pointers/suggestions/questions/critique you have, never hesitate to share. I'll do my best to get back to you.

Allie checked her wristwatch again for what had to be the 10th time in the last minute. She knew she should stop, hell, her own behavior was starting to annoy her. If she had any energy left whatsoever, she wouldn’t hesitate to fling herself into the sun right this fine second. In her defense, it wasn’t her fault those stubborn numbers wouldn’t…move in the desired direction already.

17:45.

Close.

Not close _enough._

She let out a prolonged sigh, nibbling on her bottom lip unconsciously whilst scribbling notes in a disinterested manner, before shutting her agenda with an audible noise. She hated bringing work home but her sleep situation (or lack thereof) was only getting worse. Least if she’d pass out, it would be here, no prying eyes. No employees complained about the leaving earlier part. She could handle the rest. She always did.

The fact that her assistant was still on leave made it a bit harder than she’d like but she wasn’t about to complain. She was empathetic enough to know that her world wasn’t everyone’s world. She could use some help, though, any assistance would be absolutely stellar right now…and not just work-wise. It would be great if her struggles stopped there. Because she could manage them – begrudgingly, slower than usual but manage nonetheless.

The _everything else_ part was the one pinning her down.

She didn’t know if it was the lingering jitters from that 5th (6th, maybe?) espresso she just had or something else but, before she could ponder any further, she was already pacing back and forth in that limited perimeter of her living room, almost rhythmically. She only registered how long she’s been at it when she checked her wristwatch again.

17:50.

She was pretty sure if she didn’t stop anytime soon, she’d crack the entire floor and create a sinkhole. On second thought, a hole to crawl into wouldn’t sound so terrible, at all. Some dirt on top might help too, right over her messed up head. She even pictured it.

But not even the weight of three shovels of dirt right over her skull would shut her brain off enough for it to…stop being so _goddamn_ loud. Nothing worked. All she had was this throbbing, fatigue-induced headache and a myriad of taunting, clashing thoughts involving a specific someone…

17:51.

Better.

 _Still_ not close enough.

She was starting to feel like a shy, clumsy, infatuated teenager who didn’t know how to navigate those scary but equally exciting first feelings. It hasn’t happened in so long that maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way, she stopped believing that it even could anymore. Least not to her. Not on that level.

She was dead wrong.

She knew what it was _now_ , least she suspected it because she recognized _some_ of the signs. She hasn’t felt this nervous, confused and unsure of everything since junior prom.

Of course, that was _before_ she found herself lost in her own childhood home, her own driveway, clutching her knees to her chest…before the lingering happiness and magic aftermath of her first kiss with a girl were replaced by unbearable shame, utter shock, painful sorrow, a suitcase thrown her way like a piece of trash and that…

That door…

_I don’t care what you are, what you do or who you do it with, but you won’t do it under my roof. Leave._

She’d be lying if she said the piercing image of that disapproving, resentful glare wasn’t still burned to the back of her mind to this day, sending shivers down her spine every time it dared to show its ugly claws. She’d be lying if she said the memory didn’t still cut through her all the same years upon years later.

The first part, though? The first part was exactly the same. But somehow? Somehow it felt…vastly _different._ And the thought was almost scary enough to make her turn on her heel and cancel whatever unwritten (but spoken) appointment she had.

_What is she doing to me?_

Out of the blue, Allie’s tired, blood-shot eyes followed a new direction, stopping right at that framed picture of a smiling Kaz still gracing her counter. The older woman’s arm was draped over her shoulders and a kind, warm expression settled on her face. Allie’s smile, on the other hand? It didn’t even halfway reach her eyes – maybe because she hasn’t aced the art of forcing and maintaining a convincing one by then.

Now? Now she was a master at it. She could teach a university class, hand out diplomas even.

For some reason, she didn’t have it in her to throw that faded, damaged, withering picture away, much like the two people depicted within. The memory inside was gradually losing all of its weight and importance too with each passing day, one flickering touch of color and meaning at a time.

She didn’t know why she still held onto it – Kaz had left. Long gone. Once it didn’t suit her to stay anymore. Everybody else followed – no heads-up, no apologies. She couldn’t hold it against Kaz. She couldn’t hold it against anyone for leaving or making her leave them.

She was too much to handle, always has been. She was a burden, always has been.

It was terrifying how much she wanted _her_ to stay.

…how much she ached for _her_ to be the exception.

She had no right to even allow her mind to go there but it did. And that thought was only getting louder by the second.

She didn’t know what it was about Bea. But there was _something_. And it was a different kind of something, one she had nothing to compare to. She never got attached so fast, so deep, on all levels. Whatever this was, it was supposed to have fizzled out by now. She tried everything.

It didn’t. Not even a little.

Because this wasn’t just junior prom, this was _more_. It felt like plunging straight into the water with no safety net whatsoever, without knowing how to swim and not even caring if you drown. It felt like heading towards disaster, knowing it, visualizing the not-so-happy ending down the road painted to the last tragic detail and _still_ not wanting to hop off the train you’re already on.

17:55.

Finally.

Allie’s resolve came right then - she’d at least enjoy the journey while it lasted. It was that decision which finally set her in motion, made her grab her car keys and walk out the door. She didn’t give a second thought to how terrible she probably looked, how jittery she still felt or even how she’d deal with the dizzy spell she was still under for a reason that extended far beyond her prolonged fatigue.

She wanted to see Bea.

She _needed_ to see her.

The torn blonde’s not-so-sharp reflexes caused her to drive a lot more slowly and cautiously to Bea’s salon. She wasn’t about to cut any corners, not tonight. She forced her red, droopy eyes to stay open, struggling all the way – the usually warm afternoon lights were shining far too bright now. But not even the longer journey and the extra time to think did anything to silence the deafening noise in her head.

All of those mixed thoughts, each louder than the previous one vanished for a single second when she touched the door handle and looked up just in time to catch a flash of red crossing the room.

Her heart jumped out of her chest right there. 

She would have loved to blame it on the espresso.

But when her eyes fully settled on Bea’s frame, her heart reacted even more, along with her entire body. The white she was wearing didn’t do anything to stop the choir of angels singing in Allie’s head right now. 

 _She_ was leading them.

And when the redhead turned on her heel with her characteristic, but endearing awkwardness, alerted by the noise she just made, Allie could have sworn she forgot what breathing even was. She suddenly needed written instructions. Maybe a diagram. A pie chart?

“And she wears jeans…so you do own commonfolk clothes too, Ms. Runway.”

Allie cleared her throat, looking down at her outfit for a split second before staring back up, failing to catch Bea’s eyes doing the same, perhaps with a touch of intrigue and wonder, too. She forgot what she was even wearing until this _angel_ pointed it out. Faded denim jeans and red flannel tucked in, apparently. She did like a good cliché, after all.

“Hey, Allie.”

“Hi…” – she greeted back, with only half a voice.

This time, she caught Bea’s expression switching to scrutinizing, yet still maintaining her usual layer of softness and empathy underneath. She probably noticed the bags under her eyes _and_ the even more pronounced lethargy of her every move. But if she did, she didn’t say anything. 

“Did I come in after hours or something?”

“Yeah, you did. “ – the redhead explained, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Figured I’d save you the torture of running into even more bridezillas…”

“That’s so considerate of you, Bea. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me.”

Bea’s shoulders tensed slightly in response, before she fixed her collar nervously then averted her gaze altogether.

“And you’re right, I do get a daily overdose. “

Despite her delayed reflexes and not-so-sharp reaction time, the gesture didn’t evade Allie. It was so easy to rattle her, after all. And it was exactly what she planned on doing this evening. Part of her _“enjoy the journey while it lasted”_ resolution.

“Cool place you got here, by the way.” – the blonde remarked, appreciatively, adding a playful wink to match her words, before re-focusing her curious, exploring glance on every detail of Bea’s workspace.

It was a much fancier and elegant place than the overly modest redhead sold it out to be – unsurprisingly, she sold herself short on this, too. Allie would have preferred some less bright lights but everything else was exquisite and luxurious to say the least.

“Follow me.” – Bea commanded, leading the blonde out back, before motioning to her to have a seat on one of the chairs.

“So….what do you want, Allie?”

_Anything you want._

“What?”

Clearly not what Allie was thinking. Nope. Definitely not the sentence that started most of her fantasies lately involving a very special someone or anything.

“Your hair…” – Bea clarified, amused and oblivious as always. “Anything you have in mind?”

“Oh…right. Just..do your thing. I trust you.”

“Rookie mistake. How do you know I’m not terrible at this?”

“No way you could be terrible at anything. Plus, whatever you do, it’s gonna be the upgrade of the century for _this_ mop.” – the blonde pointed to her mop head with clear disgust in her tone, before blowing a brittle strand of hair from her eyes.

“And you said _I_ sell myself short.” - Bea smiled again at Allie’s woman-child mannerisms, already gathering her stuff and putting a cover over her frame.

“That’s still true.“ – said woman-child countered again, lifting her index finger in the air. “But seriously, when I had my last haircut, dinosaurs were still roaming the Earth doing… dinosaur things.” – she finished making her point with lively hand gestures, imitating two scary dinosaurs, rawr noises included.

The transfixed redhead was too busy finding Allie’s nerdy self downright adorable to even register what she was doing. She almost grabbed two pairs of scissors, before kicking herself hard for good measure…internally, of course.

She really needed to focus on the task at hand.

“So…if anyone can fix me, it’s gotta be you.”

“I’ll try. But like I said, no promises.”

And with that, Bea readjusted herself mentally and physically, before switching to her professional mode, eye-ing Allie in the mirror with a focused look, assessing the…. _situation._ The equally enraptured blonde could almost see the wheels turning in her head - her hearty, contagious laughter followed suit.

“Really, Bea, no need to even try, just…chop it all off and it’ll still be an improvement.”

“And let you grace the world with _that_ bald head?”

Check and mate.

Allie smirked just a little - Bea finally evened the score. She’d let her bask in the joyous aftermath of that limited victory….for _now_.

“Shit, you’re right, I still need _some_ curtain to hide this messed-up face.” – Allie replied, not in the least offended, taking a still too long and frizzy strand of her own hair and draping it all over her face…like a mortifying curtain.

“No, you don’t.“

Aggravated and desperate to make her point, the blonde turned in her chair with an odd rush of energy just to stare at Bea, catching her completely off guard and stealing her breath away, all in one motion.

“Have you even  _seen_ the face on me?”

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Was this some kind of a test or….?

“Yeah, there’s uh…there’s nothing wrong with it. “

Allie smiled like the Cheshire Cat again – she caught that little hint of _something_ in her tone.

Bea passed. With flying colors even.

“Now will you _just_ stand still?”

“Sorry, this is 5 espressos Allie, not the one you usually wanna hang out with. She gets jumpy and she has no filter.”

Good thing Bea was calm enough for them both.

“I’m trying to visualize something so will you _just_ stop moving already?” – the redhead commanded again, this time sternly, growing increasingly annoyed by this caffeinated flower jumping in her seat like no one’s business. Not the wisest behavior around someone with scissors on hand.

_You know, Red, you could always plant one on her, that’ll calm her down reaaaal good---_

As always, Bea’s weird Franky inner-voice had an obvious solution for everything.

“I’m gonna try but 5 espressos Allie doesn’t really take orders from anybody so---“

If there was one thing Bea was (in) famous for…it was her legendary lack of patience.

“Look at me.”

In one swift move, she tilted Allie’s chin towards her and _whatever_ the jittery flower girl was on the verge of saying next got lost in a puff of smoke. The redhead was so focused on her current task, gently framing Allie’s face, before taking a strand of her hair to measure it by eye… _professionally_ that she failed to catch how suspiciously quiet and mellow her previously agitated company suddenly became. She remained completely oblivious to Allie’s breathing turning heavier and the blonde’s hypnotized look following every practiced move of her fingers like a magnet.

“Just…stand back and relax, okay?”- she added with a brief, soft squeeze of the blonde’s shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine….that same poor, whipped idiot now melting into a puddle of _tenderness_...among other things.

In all honesty, Bea didn’t know who she was talking to more. She also had no idea that particular sentence did.. _things_ to her current companion who may or may not have bitten down hard on her bottom lip and shaken her head to get a certain reoccurring daydream out of it.

Just because Allie couldn’t sleep, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do the whole dreaming wide awake thing…24/7.

“But if you hate it….no take-backs. That’s the face you’re showing the world.”

As Bea began to work her magic on her hair…and her scalp…and her…. _everything,_ Allie had to distract herself somehow to keep her mind occupied with...neutral thoughts. She started by shooting fugitive, discreet, even sneaky glances to the clock above, to not alert her companion who was still too close and still too _focused_ on her craft.

_Why am I into that, too?_

By the third check of the clock, she was beginning to note how the numbers seemed to just…stand still. That particular knowledge only made her situation worse. She needed something else.

Pffft...piece of cake. She was a… _creative_ person. In general, not just in matters of floral artistry. She got this. All she had to do was let her imagination run wild, only in an entirely different direction this time around.

So, she switched tactics, her eyes skimming the ceiling again, waiting for a divine message. Soon enough, the perfect idea popped into her head. She started visualizing a fly on the wall – hold on, it just came to life, she made it materialize out of thin air, even gave it a name. That’s it.

Her name was Allie. Because why not? It was the best name of all. Now she was giving fly Allie a _fly_ girlfriend (no pun intended). No, wait, wrong, not helping. Rewind - fly Allie was a detective now and she solved mysteries and saved the planet with her super-fly super-hero powers. She also had a partner in crime who….never mind, scratch that, wrong again. Fly Allie was just a lonely fly, flying around doing fly things, the end.

Much better. True to life, too.

For a moment there, the blonde got so engrossed in catching up on _“The Chronicles of Fly Allie”_ , as well as mastering the art of the stealthy lip bite _and_ the professional leg cross, she almost deluded herself into thinking she had a lid on things..

“I promise it’s not pink, but I am gonna have to do something about that color, too.”

…until a certain someone’s hands began to massage her scalp lightly to apply the hair-dye evenly.  Her movements were so gentle they almost felt like a soft caress, if nothing else.

There goes Allie’s practiced, calculated composure. It nearly flew out the window right there. 

She knew what _this_ was. It was the other part that came along with it that she desperately tried to avoid thinking about.

Because she’d die before she allowed her mind to _also_ register that this was the most comfort, solace and tranquility anyone’s presence and touch ever passed onto her, the first time she could have fallen asleep right there…and not woken up mid sleep-cycle in a cold sweat, for once.

“Hey…Allie?”

Her low, slightly raspy but oddly soothing voice matched that peace and quiet all the same, maybe even tenfold. Allie could have listened to the sound forever.

“Hmmm?”

And if anyone else had that cheesy thought right then, she’d laugh at that poor sucker until there was no laughter left in her – only the drama’s never that funny when it happens to you.

“What’s with you and seahorses..?”

And..a _welcome_ distraction. She’d binge watch the two-part season finale of _“Fly Allie”_ later. Maybe pitch the idea to Netflix, too.

“I’d tell you but then I’d have to—“

“Please? I just…I wanna know. I’m curious, sue me.”

“I have never had more power in my life.” – the smug blonde leaned back in her chair smoothly, almost seductively, as her now darkening eyes fully settled on a clueless Bea.

“So uh….what will you do to find out, Ms. Smith?” – her voice dropped an octave, taking on a gravely, husky edge.

_(Yeah, really not helping yourself right now, 50 shades of Novak.)_

“A-ask? Usually that gets you pretty far in Australia. What tribe are _you_ from?”

Well, she did feel rather… _primal_ right now. Not that Bea had any way of knowing just how aroused she was. Still didn’t mean that seductive undertone didn’t run straight through her – Bea may or may not have felt all the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

Because it was cold in here.

“You’re no fun at all, Bea. Least right now you’re not.”

“Fine, don’t tell me then. Would you look at that, I suddenly don’t care anymore—“

Not even Bea’s overtly sarcastic interventions did anything to stop Allie’s not-so-professional thoughts. If anything, they amplified them. She didn’t want to stop and wonder why she found her general lack of enthusiasm charming…when she hated it on _anyone else_.

“Course I’ll tell you. But only cause you asked so nicely and not at all _begged_ to know--”

In Allie’s defense, her current mood had everything to do with Bea’s little…show yesterday. That and her hands were still…too close and… _very_ handy. Or maybe it had even more to do with Bea’s…. _everything_.

But if the flower girl let her mind entertain that thought for longer than 0.02 seconds, she’d run straight through the door right now.

“You do realize I still have scissors close by, don’t ya?”

The blonde’s very visual brain still found a way to work with… _that_ image too, for the record.

“So I…I saw this documentary, right?” – Allie pursed her lips cutely, initiating get-head-out-of-gutter plan. “What? I love TV, okay, don’t judge me, I watch everything ever made, TV is inspiring, it’s got everything – comedy, drama, tragedy, love—“ – she listed them using her fingers, like the fearless leader of Geek Town she was.

“Get to the point, _Shakespeare._ ”

“Right. As I was saying… I watched this documentary about seahorses once..and I learned this very, very dorky fact that won’t help the image you already have of me..at all.”

“I’m not wrong, am I? You really _are_ a nerd?”- Bea feigned a surprised gasp, pretending to be shocked by this…life-altering revelation. 

“Okay, you’re so right, okay. I hate it.”– Allie let out a high-pitched girly squeak like a rubber toy, before hiding her entire nerd face in her hands.

_There goes my plan to impress you._

“Anyways uh…” – the blonde’s voice changed again. “ _I_ learned..” – she said it boastfully and academically, at the same time, lowering an imaginary pair of glasses on her nose. “That seahorses like to swim in pairs. They link tails so they don’t lose each other.”

Bea chuckled just a little – she even had the nerd voice to go with her nerd everything. Impressive dedication from where she was standing.

“Fascinating…you must be even more fun at parties than I am.”

Allie _tried_ to glare and failed spectacularly for….how many times now?

“But don’t you _see_ it, Bea?”

“The only thing I’m still seeing is your split ends all over my floor which I was just about to--“ – a very disinterested Bea shrugged then turned around to clean up the frizzy mess she just pointed to, when Allie stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.

It didn’t evade the overly attentive, perceptive blonde that she flinched slightly… _again._ Allie knew she had to stop being a touchy-feely moron but she apparently couldn’t help it. Regret pierced through her like a sharp blade as Bea gulped a little and stopped moving, re-focusing all of her attention back on her.

“It’s beautiful. But it’s also more than that. It’s…. _inspiring_ , okay?” – Allie made her point quickly, just to avoid thinking of her previous misdemeanor.

“That they stick together to survive?”

“I don’t think it’s just about that. I think they’re making a promise to each other.”

“A promise….” – Bea repeated, almost incredulously. She suspected the blonde had a vivid imagination but this seemed over the top, even for her.

“Yeah…and if they had any words to speak, they’d say - _I don’t want to lose you in this giant watery thing. I’m choosing you. So I won’t link tails with any other seahorse for as long as I live…or swim, you’re it for me…_ fella…or girlie, you never know, clearly _I’m_ not one to judge the animal kingdom—“

“You watch too much TV, Allie.”

Bea aimed for insulting but it came out a lot more fondly than she even knew. Maybe because that spark igniting in Allie’s eye that always settled there when she talked about something she was passionate about caused her heart to do…

_The thing._

“Whatever, you asked for it—“

Allie crossing her arms, visibly offended, did nothing to help her heart’s….thing from becoming even more… _thingy_ now.

“I think it's cute, though. How you read so much into everything..”

_How you find light in anything._

“You’re making fun of me right now, aren’t ya?”

Bea stifled a teasing smile.

“Oh, Allie...." - she pouted, not even trying to mask her mocking tone now. "Still reading too much into everything...aren't ya?”

Attempt to glare? 50. Attempt failed. Facial muscles still not complying. Sudden impulse to kiss Bea's entire adorable face off? Registered. Request denied. Bea was just lucky Allie was too tired to out-banter her. She'd make up for it tenfold in the nearby future. The redhead won't even know what hit her.

With that light, casual thought in mind, this time around, when Bea washed the hairdye from the blonde’s hair, revealing her new (and fabulous) look, Allie’s head managed to stay only 50% in the gutter. The other 50% was too busy fangirling.

“Holy shit...I just got Beyoncé-d." - Allie gasped loudly. "There's a Beyoncé on my head.  _My_  head.”

“Nonsense, she’s got nothing on you now.” – Bea praised, running a hand through Allie’s much shorter hair, then fixed her parting to add a final touch.  _Now_ she looked presentable.

“Not sure if you’re complimenting me or your own handiwork right now. Mind clarifying that, just for my ego--”

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know?”

“I would, I just said it, keep up, Bea. The mystery’s driving me crazy.”

_You’re driving me crazy._

“Sucks to be you, then.”

Bea punctuated that closing comment with a shrug, before removing the cover from Allie’s frame, ignoring her pouting and protesting like the twelve year old she was.

“I need flowers right now, you just made me sad. “ – the childish blonde crossed her arms even more, huffing in discontent, still not letting this go. “A’right, listen up - white roses, lilies—“

“I obviously don’t have any on me.”

“Then apologize.”

With that, Allie stood up a little straighter in her chair and inched closer on purpose so she was on eye level with Bea now.

“I--I don’t do apologies, just ask Franky.”

She was so close the redhead could distinguish every shade of blue in her exhausted eyes…they still looked _so_ bright from where she was standing..

“B-but I…I fixed your head, _dork,_ isn’t that enough?”

The sight was enough to make her nearly fall backwards and stumble over her every word.

“Pretty sure you’re fixing more than that.” – Allie smiled, sincerely, retreating just a little, no trace of teasing, just pure _tenderness_ this time around.

_You’re fixing my heart._

“What?”

_Shit._

Allie could have sworn she did not say that out loud. Not only did exhausted her have no filter whatsoever, she also carried the processing power of a stone-age computer.

“Never mind. Ignore me, please, tired Allie is even more of a bitch than regular Allie, if you can imagine that."

Thankfully, Bea didn’t press the matter any further.

“Well you should see sleep-deprived me, then, they’d be besties.”

Nor did she notice or hear Allie exhaling in relief just a moment after.

“They should start a book& torture club together, huh? Voodoo dolls and everything?”

“Let’s just say she terrified Franky on more than one occasion…and _nothing_ scares Franky.”

“Well, I’ve only seen a glimpse of angry you yesterday and uh… you scared me, too.”

_And turned me on._

“Then you know not to mess with me.”

_You scare me more._

“All done, _Christina Aguilera.” –_ Bea bowed, slightly, satisfied with her work, then cracked her knuckles.

“Shit, you’re right, that’s more like it. You even remembered I dig her, I’m impressed.”

Allie tipped an imaginary hat to show her appreciation in a way only a giant nerdy nerd like her would. She then stared at the mirror again, admiring her new look (and maybe someone else’s reflection too, while she was at it) before she dusted her jeans and stood up from her chair, turning towards that same certain someone who was now smiling bashfully, still not used to receiving compliments.

The real deal was better than any reflection anyway.

“Thank you so much, Bea, I owe you one. This looks amazing.”

_You look amazing._

This time around, it wasn’t just _her_ thought.

“No worries..”

“So what do I owe ya?”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

If anything, she was the one who owed the blonde – in more ways than she was even able to name or understand. But she’d rather listen to Franky ramble about taxes for 10 hours straight in 50 different languages with a lively, rhythmic soundtrack on top than admit to that.

“Oh come on, you’ve gotta be kidding—“

“It’s on me, Allie, don’t even try to argue.”

“Or you’ll hurt me..?”

For once, Allie did not mean that as an innuendo. She did say it with a double meaning, though. Because she had this strong, disheartening hunch pressing on her heart and brain at the same time. It felt like _something_ in her was loudly screaming to turn away and leave while she still could because a tragic outcome was the _only_ possible outcome.

Because things always tended to go sideways somehow…especially when she started to give a shit. This wouldn’t end in someone cheating on her like last time or even leaving once they got what they wanted out of her like the other 50 times before but…then again, her ex didn’t have a tenth of what… _she_ did right now.

 _No one_ else had. And not even turning all the heat on her usual flirting to pretend this giant, monumental thing wasn’t happening to her or it wasn’t as serious as she made it out to be would erase _that_ thought still daring to taunt her.

She was pretty sure Bea was starting to hold her entire heart in her hand.

“Definitely.”

And she could drop it on the floor at anytime.

“One more thing…thank you. “

She never gave _anyone_ that kind of power.

“You know, for everything you do for Franky and Bridget..”

Allie’s energy to fight was nearing zero.

“They both mean a lot to me…”

_You mean a lot to me._

“…and I know this hasn’t exactly been easy on you so..”

“Nonsense. Everyone should have that.” – Allie put up a dismissive hand in the air. She said it so matter-of-factly, but Bea didn’t seem convinced in the slightest.

“Have what?”

“What they have. The fairytale?”

“Fairytales aren’t real, Allie.”

And maybe it was precisely Bea’s harsh, unwavering realism and nonbeliever attitude that made Allie suddenly need to make her case and bring a binder of evidence to go with it. She would, even if it was the last thing she did. That, and she also happened to love color-coded binders. Because she was still in kindergarten.

“Well, then I’ll give them the closest thing to it. Need I remind you what our slogan is? _“Deliver happiness”?_ It’s on the window display, Bea, keep up already, _slowpoke._ ”

Poking Bea was also _paramount_ in making her case, not just another excuse to touch her or anything.

“And I take my mission statements _very_ seriously.”

“Did you just poke me? What are ya, 12?”

“Still not offended, Bea. Compare me to kids all you want, they’re awesome. Hell, they’re better than all of us.”

Bea wouldn’t argue against a wise statement like that in a million years.

“Kids should like…rule the world. Can you imagine? Literally, we’d have a law that says “everyone gets free pizza today.” instead of “everyone gets a gun” or “you’re not allowed to love your own gender.”

She didn’t miss that familiar, subtle streak of stifled hurt flashing for a split second across Allie’s eyes…. _again,_ before it went away like it wasn’t even there. But Bea knew it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Because, by this point, she not only noticed Allie’s pitiful attempt at a playful façade and her dismissive gestures, she also saw right through them. She wanted to do _something_ , squeeze her shoulder in reassurance if nothing else. It was right there. She just had to move. But she was frozen in place again.

By the time she realized her own failure to react, Allie already put up her mask again, shattering everything in her.

“Anyways, my point is, everyone deserves that, even if just for a day, wouldn’t you say so?”

“I guess.”- Bea said, still not entirely convinced.

Because, in her experience, it didn’t matter what someone deserved, but what someone got. Life wasn’t that fair or simple or black and white like the idealistic blonde was making it out to be now.

“I’m also talking about you.”

“Don’t know about that.”

“Well I think you do too, _Grinch_.”

Bea _tried_ to glare, too – apparently her facial muscles didn’t work tonight, either. Maybe there was something in the air. Radiation, toxic fumes by any chance?

“Funny. Cheesy Franky would love you right now.”

“ _That_ was scary, too.”

“I had to hear even more about it than you so _you_ got off easily.”

_(Still need to work on your double meanings, Bea.)_

“Lucky me.”

Allie fixed her collar nervously, hoping it would fix her head, too. Nope, that guy was still casually chilling in the gutter, having an after-party. Hold on, he’s sipping margaritas on the beach. Now he’s picturing Bea in a bathing suit because…why _wouldn’t_ he?

Allie shook her head to get all the nonsense out, before facing the exit again, with a focused Bea fixated on her back, following her every move. She managed to drive her body forward, shakily, with superhuman efforts, the previous lightheadedness in her brain returning full-force. It wasn’t long before Allie’s steps turned wobbly.

She didn’t know if it was the blinding lights or her cluttered brain failing to coordinate her movements but everything became blurry, from the floor to the other chairs in her peripheral vision, down to her own sneakers she was looking at just a second before.

Sensing that something was wrong, Bea was already inching closer to her, just as the blonde began to sway a little and almost fall over. Not wasting a single second, Bea rushed to her side, steadying her with a hand on her waist just in time.

“Shit, Allie, you okay?”

Allie blinked rapidly, Bea’s concerned face clouding her vision now still nothing but a blur of moving contours she couldn’t quite piece together. She didn’t see it properly but she registered the sensation, clear as day – Bea was gently taking her other arm and swaying it over her shoulder to steady her even more.

Even in her exhausted state, _that_ short-circuited her messed-up, unfixable heart. She had no energy to oppose her, least not physically. Verbally, on the other hand..

“I’m fine…”

“When’s the last time you slept…like 8 hours?”

“I’m okay..” – Allie tried again, putting on her perfect, practiced smile this time.

“Don’t bullshit me—“

Why wasn’t it working on _her_?

“I don’t remember.”

It worked on _everyone else_.

‘I’m not letting you drive, come on, gimme your keys.”

“I’m fine, Bea—“

 _She_ wouldn’t have any of it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you think that was optional?”

In any other context, _that_ would’ve made Allie forego the get-head-out-of-gutter plan. But now, she was seeing something else in Bea’s eyes, something she wasn’t sure she saw before, not like this. And it wasn’t snark or anger.

Her eyes didn’t match her voice _or_ her words. At all. 

“I’m..I’m worried about you, Allie, okay?“

Or maybe they did. Allie looked again. And what stared back at her instantly brought tears to her eyes.

She would have loved to blame them on her fatigue.

"Is that what you wanna hear? Fine, write that in your stupid diary, I don’t care, but you’re not driving—“

Because the entire world watched her fall deeper and deeper into drugs and looked on from the sidelines doing… _nothing._ Even Kaz stopped giving a shit when it no longer suited her. And this beautiful woman, in all understandings of the phrase, cared about her…lack of sleep which was… _nothing._ It was such a small thing. It didn’t matter. It _shouldn’t_ matter. She didn’t get a single thing out of…noticing.

But she did.

“Keys, _please?”_

Allie couldn’t remember anyone paying that much attention without asking for something in return, demanding it, forcing it or simply taking it from her.

 _She_ wasn’t asking for anything.

“Don’t make me fight you.”

_I can’t fight you._

She didn’t get a single thing out of caring…

But she did.

“Jacket pocket.”

All she was asking for was to help. _That_ was a first.

Allie could have fallen apart right there.

“Come on.”

And not just physically this time around.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please don’t hate me.
> 
> P.S. Dedicated to @Moonsfairy27 whose endearing enthusiasm moved this from draft territory to finished chapter.

As soon as they found themselves in Allie’s car, the already tight, enclosed space only shrunk on the pair even more, suffocating them under the weight of everything they still don’t dare to say. Allie absentmindedly put on her seatbelt with a defeated gaze, her eyes shifting away in utter _shame_ , above everything else. For the whole drive, she didn’t say much of anything. As the seemingly endless road stretched on before them, she remained completely absent, almost faraway. Her frail, unresponsive, exhausted body was physically there, not even halfway filling that much too large seat but her mind was somewhere else, a thousand miles away, a place Bea couldn’t see or even touch.

She didn’t know why it bothered her so much that she just…couldn’t. Because the invisible walls Allie had put up stood tall - a concrete, impenetrable structure, no entrance point in sight. And what they spelled was _“don’t come any closer...or do it at your own risk.”_

Bea stole fugitive, meaningful glances of the blonde’s broken profile but, in the short time she’s known her, she’s never seen her get like this. Allie seemed almost… _lost._ In sight, but painfully out of reach. She was barely holding herself together, just staring out the window with all the limited energy she still held, everything about her simply… _fallen_ , from her droopy, half-open eyes, to her entire visage.

She rested her head on her palm and looked on, as the flickering orbs from outside shone dimly, casting a faded light _she_ no longer held on moving stranger faces, searching for their way home all the same, with each hurried step.

Only difference? Allie never knew what a home was. On most days, she barely had a house.

Bea had to look away, not bearing the sight any longer. She reminded her of Debbie when she saw her own father get taken to jail, as the ear-splitting, off-tune symphony of police sirens raged on, drowning her sobs. The picture she couldn’t stand to contemplate for a single more second now was eerily similar, almost identical.

The redhead couldn’t get through to her own daughter for days. She stood in that same passenger’s seat Allie was occupying now on the ride back from the police station, after a gruesome round of questioning – she was so wounded and vulnerable, not _understanding_ anything, not _saying_ anything. That drive was the longest one of her life.

Until _now_.

She couldn’t shake this strong feeling of déjà vu clawing at her with every fleeting, hesitant glance in the flower girl’s direction. There were already so many ways she compared Allie to her own daughter and she still didn’t understand _why._ However, this was one instance that didn’t fill her with any touch of happiness or light, which was what she always associated with Debbie…and, on some level, maybe Allie, too.

Because she couldn’t stand the thought of any of the above happening with her. She didn’t know _why_ the thought of this strange, dorky blonde girl she barely even knew closing herself off to her for good petrified her so much, filled her with such dread and… _hurt._

Why did she even care so much? What were they? Friends? It sounded _close_. But if that were true, the sight before her shouldn’t be destroying her all the same, shouldn’t make her picture her own daughter that she failed to protect…shouldn’t make her feel like…

She was failing all over again _._

Her heart clenched tightly in her chest and any encouraging words she had lingering on her lips were vanishing into thin air, one unspoken syllable at a time. So much so that she could hardly concentrate on the road ahead and only faintly heard the blonde’s absent instructions on where she should go.

It wasn’t _her_ voice.

When they finally did reach their destination and she opened the car door for a reluctant, closed-off Allie who kept insisting that she was fine, that she could walk on her own, that she didn’t need any help, Bea’s heart dropped more, then fell to the floor altogether. It was almost like Allie’s lack of willpower passed onto her – she couldn’t pick it up even if she wanted to.

As soon as she unlocked the front door and walked in, she was immediately drawn to a faded picture depicting an older woman who looked similar to Allie. Bea suspected that she was a relative or someone important to her. Not a moment later, her eyes fell upon the different types of flowers in every space of the blonde’s living room.

She couldn’t pinpoint a single color if anyone asked.

As Bea shifted around some more, she noticed something else, blissfully unaware of Allie following every flicker of her empathetic gaze like a magnet. Everything about her mannerisms still spelled… _shame,_ more than anything else.

“They stopped working.”  

Her strained, barely audible tone still resonated like a single needle dropping to the floor of a dead silent room.

Sleeping pills. Half a container already emptied.

“Look, Bea…I’m..I’m so sorry about this, I just…it’s not work, alright? I….I get nightmares sometimes—“  - Allie croaked in a hollow, apologetic voice, running an angry hand through her hair, already pacing back and forth frantically in her living room….again.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“You must think I’m pathetic right now—“

_I don’t._

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

_It does to me._

“I’ve seen some things, alright, b-but they’re in the past, okay, I don’t know why this keeps happening to me, I’m really, _really_ sorry about this--”  - Allie took a deep breath and tried again, barely getting the words out.

Her voice shook then cracked altogether.

“It’s not that simple, Allie...” – Bea probed cautiously, with the tentative stance you’d use to approach a wounded animal, not knowing what to say or what to do. “If what you saw left a mark, that doesn’t just get erased. And it’s not like you asked for them.”

Bea’s tone was calm on surface, despite the deafening warzone that was her heart right now. All she knew was that she didn’t want to scare Allie off more than she already was. Because if she learned another thing by now, it was that she couldn’t stand to _hear_ Allie’s pain either.

Unfortunately, that was one sense she couldn’t simply turn off at the drop of a hat. It was the worst moment to have that realization.

“Everyone gets nightmares sometimes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

At the same time, a similar flash of realization blazed in someone else’s eyes, someone who was glancing at her now like she finally deciphered a life-long mystery.

“You get them too….don’t you?”

No answer.

Or maybe, all the answers.

“How’d you make them go away?”

“What makes you think they have..?”  - Bea asked, more like a heavy, muffled whisper than a question. She had no idea what prompted her to say it.

Maybe the answer was as simple as _“I just wanted her to feel less alone in this.”_

Maybe it was as complicated as _“I feel like I can trust her…and I don’t know why”_.

Because she rarely trusted _anyone._  It wasn’t something she just gave, it was something you had to earn.

Bea cast an absent, preoccupied look out the window just in time to catch the raindrops falling and hear them collide with every surface, rhythmically, like a beautiful symphony. But, like everything else that ever brought her some semblance of comfort, it didn’t last - it wasn’t long before the less pleasant, deafening noise of clashing clouds reached her ears. The roaring sound and the abrupt change made the blonde flinch, too.

A thunderstorm was coming.

It was no match for the one raging inside of her.

“So then how do you….what _can_ you do?”

“Wait it out, I guess?” – Bea answered, following Allie’s nonverbal cue to take a seat on her living room couch. “Sometimes Franky would hold me. First few times I wouldn’t let her but, you’ve seen her, she doesn’t take no for an answer. Sometimes uh..sometimes my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” – Allie asked, taking her sneakers off, then sitting down next to Bea with her legs crossed, maintaining a much too great distance, one that appeared and felt unnatural.

It wasn’t lost on the redhead that this was the first trace of a real smile that she’s seen on her face since leaving the salon.

“Yeah…Her name’s Debbie, she’s 19, she’s at UNI now.”

“Bet you miss her like crazy, huh?”

“Yeah…I do..I…everyday…but I want her to have this, she deserves it, you know, she deserves good things.” – Bea added, shying away from the blonde’s questioning, open gaze, fumbling with her sleeves, unconsciously.

“So do you.”

‘Don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

The fact that Allie said it with such raw honesty and unwavering conviction yet again made Bea reluctantly face her, needing a visual confirmation that she meant it, too. She still didn’t know where _that_ kept coming from. Allie hardly knew her.

“Another thing I tried was uh… remember that whatever it was, it couldn’t touch me, couldn’t do anything to me…because it’s just a dream..dreams have no power over you when you wake up, right?“

If Allie’s messed up heart wasn’t already in pieces, those words could have split it apart. Because she finally put two and two together – Bea must’ve seen even worse than her. Yet she was still here, still trying to help her, a stranger, not even a friend. _Was_ she?

Raging guilt hit Allie like a sucker punch to the gut, as a knot steadily rose in her throat. She gulped a few times to make it go away – no use. She felt like she couldn’t _breathe_.

“Or..you’re gonna hate this one…whatever haunts you in your dreams, try to resolve it when you wake up..?”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then you ask for help. Talk to someone who knows what they’re doing, like Bridget…y’know, counselling, therapy…?”

“A shaman?”

Allie’s joke didn’t make as much as a dent in the palpable tension filling every corner of this room. As expected, Bea wasn’t amused. Nothing about this conversation was even in the neighborhood of funny to her.

“Sorry…it’s just..not my style. I don’t do….” – the blonde gestured weakly and dismissively with her right arm. “Talking.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Allie realized that _this,_ right here, right now, was the most talking she did. And not just about her nightmares, but about anything real, anything that matters.

“Me neither, Allie, _trust me_ , but you don’t have much of a choice, y-you …you have to do _something_ , I-I mean, look at you—“

The torn redhead’s voice trembled and cracked unannounced by the end, as she pointed to Allie’s worn-out, sickly-pale exterior, desperately trying to make her take this seriously, see herself through _her_ eyes right now.

“Is that you trying to tell me I look awful, Bea?”

And failing…

“Cause that would really break a woman’s ego--”

“Priorities, Allie? You _have_ to let someone help you.”

_Please._

_Something_ about Bea’s piercingly honest, no-bullshit, urging tone made the flower girl readjust her stance, both physically and mentally. She sighed heavily, before running a hand through her much shorter hair, barely speaking, that noose around her neck only tightening more with every word.

“I don’t think anyone can, I mean I…I tried everything, right, even sleeping pills and I don’t take pills for anything, not even a headache. Nothing works. Anyone who saw even a little just…waltzed out of here, freaked out, showed me the door or just…left themselves cuz it was too much to handle. I’m sorry, this is…it’s….”

_Not what I wanted you to see._

“….not your problem to deal with so you can, you can go now if you want, I won’t hold it against you or anything, you’ve already done more than enough for me—“

Allie was so distracted, she didn’t stop to notice or process her own hectic, anxious gestures – she was biting her bottom lip and picking at the skin around her fingers unconsciously all the way through her explanation, talking more to the floor, avoiding Bea’s gaze like it was physically burning her.

She meant it – talking only made it worse for her in the past. She had a feeling she was about to ruin everything now, too.

“You _really_ love to ramble, don’t you?”

That line, delivered with absolutely no trace of resentment, fear or even disgust and Bea giving her a weak, teasing smile was just about the last reaction she expected.

“Can’t help it, it’s how I’m wired, Bea. Whoever created me deserves a refund cause something went _terribly_ wrong, I’m tellin’ ya--”

In any other context, the older woman would have playfully bumped her shoulder or shot any witty comeback her way because this _idiot_ still made a joke out of _everything_ , including an issue as severe as this was. But now, something wouldn’t let her.

“I don’t get scared easily. So you’re…” – she sighed, hesitantly reaching for Allie’s hand, silencing her senseless rambling in an instant.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”  - she added, holding it protectively in her callous one with all the courage she held, giving it a light squeeze, then letting go.

Allie choked immediately, unshed tears forming in her eyes yet again, along with a million words taking space in her head that she couldn’t verbalize. She didn’t even notice them…but Bea did.

“What if I got a pet snake for the office, eh?”

And it destroyed her even more that the florist _still_ saw fit to make another joke – because she was starting to realize this was another one of her… _things._ Using humor as a shield. She wasn’t angry at Allie’s defense mechanism, she was angry at the whole world for making her need one in the first place.

“Well _that_ would be the best way to make sure I never step foot in there ever again..”

“No way, we can’t have that. Sssssnaky can go.”

Or maybe the blonde was also trying to defuse the situation to make _her_ comfortable. She would. Even if it wasn’t the time or place to worry about that. Bea didn’t know what to do with that realization striking her out of nowhere. If she had any space left in her think-about-later box, she’d add it in there.

Maybe she needed to buy a new one. More like a hundred boxes.

“Nerd.” – Bea fake-coughed.

She could play along. For _her sake,_ if nothing else.

“I wear it like a badge of honor, Bea.”

“Of horror, you mean.”

“I’ll have you know nerds invented the best things in the world.”– the blonde added, smugly, like the world’s proudest geek. “A’right, listen up – sliced bread, latte art _,_ answering machines, smart parking _\--_ ”

“Says the nerd. Defending your people, aren’t ya?”

“Well, someone has to.”

But this time around, Allie’s fake bravado and empty laughter didn’t last longer than a few seconds. What was once a very easy front to maintain to perfection suddenly felt impossible to keep around someone who seemed to see through every crack. And she did.

Because the florist was still smiling but Bea caught up on the crumbling façade immediately – her gaze dropped, as a thoughtful, faraway air surrounded her yet again. She opened her mouth a few times, struggling with the words, biting her bottom lip even harder.

“Could you uh…could you maybe…do that for me?”

“Do what?”

“Hold me.”

By the time Allie remembered Bea’s aversion to being touched and what her stupid proposition would entail for her, it was already much too late to take it back, the words already flew out of her mouth. 5 espressos Allie really had no filter.

But the conflicted blonde would rather take a bullet to the head right _now_ than admit that her words had nothing to do with the lingering effects of caffeine…which had long since worn-off because her tolerance was sky-high lately.

“Never mind, forget I asked—“

She had _no_ right to ask. For that, or anything else, for that matter. Guilt hit her like a freight train yet again. She had to fix it, apologize. She was just about to, when Bea spoke over her.

“Y-you think _that’s_ gonna help?”

_Is she seriously considering this?_

Why not? Of course Bea would put her needs first, of course. The flower girl was starting to suspect it was just something she did for everyone because that’s the kind of person she was. But since Allie already opened that can of worms and she couldn’t back down now, she might as well walk all the way.

“I…I don’t know.”

And maybe she owed her at least an explanation for her strange request. It was her last resort – the one thing she _didn’t_ try.

“I mean, I..I _wouldn’t_ know ‘cause I.…I never….”

_I never had anyone do it._

"Nevermind.”

She didn’t need to say it. Bea saw right through her – she heard the message loud and clear. She didn’t need to know the reason either – that truth was still enough to fill her with unshakeable… _anger._ It was a degree and type of anger she wasn’t ready for, one she couldn’t place anywhere or even identify. She thought she experienced all brands of fire and fury known to man but this… _this_ felt different. It came blended with confusion, on top of hurt and sheer _outrage_. Because how could anyone… _not_?

_Who wouldn’t do that for someone like her?_

What Bea had no way of knowing was that, for Allie, most, if not all people left after the act. They didn’t stick around for cuddling or pillow talk or anything that involved any emotion or attachment or real connection beyond ripped clothes in a fit of passion. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone tried to sleep with her… _just_ sleep. Probably never. Or hold her for longer than it takes for the heat to wear off, hold her with no strings attached, without expecting it or even demanding it to lead to something else.

“I’ll um…I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go change. If you decide to leave, it won’t matter to me, you’ve already done enough, Bea, I mean it. Thank you for fixing me.” – Allie pointed to her shorter cut with a shaky hand, still smiling so brightly through those tears threatening to fall…but not daring to, before fading out of Bea’s sight, one weak step at a time, unaware of her gaze boring into her back as she did.

Allie wasn’t just talking about her hair.

And when the blonde returned a few minutes later, dressed in casual shorts and a loose fitting T-shirt, climbing down each step with practiced caution, least she’d fall over again, the air got knocked out of her lungs right there. She stopped dead in her tracks, blinking rapidly in disbelief, as she caught sight of that familiar flash of red again.

She hasn’t moved an inch.

Everyone else would have run to the other side of the world by now.

“You…you’re still here.”

“Told you I don’t get scared easily.”

Not even the brightest sunray could hold a candle to Allie’s smile right now.

“You will once you hear me rap, Bea.”

Bea rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle, her gaze falling upon the blonde’s frame in an up and down motion, noting the change in attire. She shook her head, belatedly realizing just how hard she was staring. It wasn’t her fault everyone had…. _legs._ You’re bound to look at someone’s, coincidentally, at least once in life…Allie’s just happened to cross her line of vision. It happens. Right?

_Legs for days, eh, Red?_

As expected, much like the real-life counterpart, voice-over Franky _also_ had the worst timing and the common sense of a shoe.

“Besides.. I owe you one, my best friend is alive and kicking, not floating somewhere in a sewer because of you…”

She opened her mouth to say _something_ , collect her thoughts, but, for a single moment, everything went blank and nothing came out.

“Because y-you…you uh…”

_Hi…_

She stammered, then faltered altogether.

_Are you sure you’re alright?_

Without a heads-up, her mind took her _somewhere_ , too.

“You calmed me down yesterday.”

She finished with a soft exhale, unaware of her energy changing, along with her entire exterior. She wore this calm, dazed expression now…because she wasn’t just thinking about it, she was _relieving_ it. This time _she_ was going somewhere Allie couldn’t see or touch, a place she created herself, ironically. That particular moment was also one of the biggest reasons why her think-about-later-box was overflowing – something else the blonde may never know.

But maybe Allie didn’t need to know the reason – she still embraced the change. The sight alone was enough to make her crack a weak, grateful smile in response, one that didn’t communicate a tenth of what she ached to say.

“It’s only fair.”

“Alright..I um..I don’t want to go upstairs, I..”

_Too many not so pleasant memories up there._

“Just…you mind staying here? Easier to run for the door ‘case you change your mind, there’s a fire escape too, by the way—“

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of that. But if you’re playing me and there’s a pet snake hidden in here, anywhere, I’m out right now, I _mean_ it, Allie—“

It was at that moment that Allie stopped fighting all-together. Because she was more terrified by the prospect of seeing a snake than seeing _all_ _of her_. Even the awful parts no one would touch with a ten-foot pole, the ugly sides, cracks and imperfections everyone steered clear off…parts she could barely stand herself.

She wanted to kiss her. More than she wanted to kiss anyone.

“No snakes. Cross my heart.”

She had no right to do that, either.

Instead, she punctuated her promise by crossing her heart with an X and pouting like a dork, resuming her spot on the couch next to Bea, then inching closer to her with more lingering tears in her eyes, just below the surface.

“G-good..”

“So is it okay if I—“

“Yeah…”

Bea was instantly taken aback by how small, hesitant and… _scared_ Allie looked right now. She didn’t know if it was all the ways the blonde reminded her of her own daughter’s struggle with nightmares or that shattered image staring back at her, peering into her soul, leaving painful marks in its wake…

But not even her own nerves or the sound of her heart threatening to burst out of her chest in anticipation could stop her.

She needed to at least _try_ to help Allie.

Because not trying would have hurt her _more_ than trying and failing.

“Come here.”

Allie reluctantly complied, awkwardly leaning into Bea’s much too inviting, extended arm, resting her head on her shoulder, still treading cautiously, tentatively…like she had no right to be there. The fact that she felt the redhead’s whole body tense on contact only cemented her worries, almost made her retreat her frame on the spot…until she heard Bea’s soft exhale in her ear and felt her readjusting herself a little. That charged breath she just released seemed to have switched something in her. Because the blonde felt her slowly relaxing, as Bea’s grip turned softer, drawing her in even more gently, like she was still giving her all the room in the world to pull away, if she wanted.

Allie wanted to. With everything in her, she did.

She couldn’t.

She sniffled, this time acknowledging her own tears, before carefully snuggling closer to her, suddenly craving the warmth of her embrace and the comfort of her presence more than the air she breathed. Sensing no resistance, she got a little bolder, draping a shaky arm around Bea’s waist. The redhead was so close she couldn’t have missed the sound of her breath hitching in her throat instantly or the feel of her heart rate speeding up, responding to her every unpracticed, but eager gesture.

Maybe this was too much for her.

She wanted to move, again. She was on the verge to….when Bea started to switch and settle once more. She listened to the sound of her slower, but still rapid heartbeats against her ear and her calmer breathing that seemed to match her rhythm perfectly now, like they were linked together.

 _Seahorses_.

She smiled a little in the crook of her neck, as the thought slipped into her mind. Bea didn’t need to see it, she _felt_ it, as a wave of calm and relief washed over her all the same. Her hand traced lazy patterns from Allie’s shoulder down to her arm and her simple, soothing gesture that wouldn’t have meant a single thing to anyone else meant the world to Allie.

Because it was the most effort and care anyone’s shown her without asking for _anything_ back.

When everyone else demanded twisted payback for the smallest act of kindness shown to her, when all she’s ever known was indentured “love”, emotional abuse and neglect, being used for someone else’s selfish gains under the false, disguised pretense of genuine care and affection.

The blonde let out a soft, involuntary whimper, still fighting back the tears pricking in her eyes, threatening to spill. Unconsciously, her grip on Bea’s waist grew stronger, as she leaned into her more and more until there was no space or distance to be crossed between them. Bea was still so worried and so focused on helping her, she didn’t stop to contemplate how close they were or even how natural all of this felt…

When she barely let _anyone_ touch her, in any way, shape or form.

When she usually ran for the hills whenever anyone _but_ Franky or her daughter or Maxine tried.

No one touched her like _this_.

She didn’t stop her.

She didn’t know how long they sat like that, basking in the serene stillness, no sound filling the air but the rain pouring outside, mixed with their synchronized breathing. It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, maybe hours. She didn’t trust her sense of time anymore. Allie’s breathing was turning quieter and, for a moment, Bea could have sworn she dozed off.

Even without an explicit confirmation, she settled for not moving too much, just to stay on the side of caution, meanwhile allowing herself a moment to admire how peaceful and _innocent_ Allie looked. Her eyes were still closed, her lips were curved slightly upwards and that worried crease on her brow was nowhere to be found anymore. Her body seemed at rest too, her chest faintly rising up and down with each breath..

If she had any of her stuff, she would have traced one or two lines, capture the sight. But since that wasn’t an option, she’d keep it as a memory for now. With every passing minute, Allie’s breathing hushed even more, until it came no louder than a whisper – she was sound asleep. Bea closed her eyes too, not to sleep, but maybe to listen.

She knew she should leave. Mentally, she was one foot out the door. But physically? She felt like she couldn’t move an inch, no matter how much she wanted to, _needed_ to. There was this odd weakness, akin to numbness spreading throughout her every tissue, starting right where Allie’s frame rested..

The flower girl was lightweight, feather-light even. It couldn’t be her weight – she lifted heavier barbells at the gym, for crying out loud. It had to be something _else_.

She didn’t know where that feeling came from. The fact that she had nothing to compare it to only added to her confusion. She didn’t experience anything like this with anyone _else_. Then again, she hasn’t held too many people aside from her daughter and her idiot best friend, on the rare occasions she needed it.

And when Allie scooched over just a little in her slumber, the gesture causing a short strand of light blonde hair to fall upon her face, Bea had this uncontrollable urge to reach out and tuck it away, almost out of instinct.

She did. It was blocking the view.

When Bea realized how much of a spell that image put her under and just how long she’s sat there, studying every detail of the blonde’s peaceful face in a mesmerized haze, from those long, dark eyelashes sheltering compassionate sky-blue orbs down to the curve of her plump lips, it was almost enough to make her bolt right there.

But it wasn’t that which finally set her, more like forced her in motion, it was the sudden iron-grip she felt on her wrist, it was Allie rattling in her arms out of nowhere, it was that beautiful, heart-stopping view from before morphing into a pained, tortured grimace. It was the feeling of her own heart throbbing violently with each strangled, guttural sound Allie made.

She was seeing Debbie again.

“Don’t go..stay with me, _please._ ”

It was all the fight in her voice pouring out of her as she said it. She had to have been only half-awake. Bea had no idea who she was even talking to, but it couldn’t be her, it had to be someone else, maybe that same someone she was now trying to fight physically, too. Allie’s eyes were still shut tight as more incoherent, choked words passed her lips. She was clinging to her harder, almost aggressively now.

“I’m not going anywhere, shh…it’s alright.” – she whispered soothingly, countering all of Allie’s harsh movements with gentler ones of her own, before facing her completely and engulfing her in a warm hug, running soothing circles down her upper back. 

It was something Franky always did for her every time she nearly punched the living daylights out of her in her sleep, because she imagined Harry doing the same to her. It was at that point she realized the brunette was family– because she took every blow without backing down just so she’d settle and fall back asleep.

Allie’s blows were nowhere near painful. The sight was. Eventually, all the energy drew out of her and the blonde crashed again. Bea reluctantly let go of her frame and laid her back down on the couch slowly, supporting the back of her neck with one hand, before placing the blanket protectively over her.

She seemed at ease again, like nothing had even happened.

Bea sighed heavily, nibbling on her bottom lip in deep thought. After what she’s seen, she couldn’t just.. _leave_. The scarier thought was that she technically could…Allie had already given her a pass, not that she owed her anything in the first place, she didn’t have a gun pointed to her head, any personal responsibility for the blonde, not even a legit, explicit _reason_ to stay.

Or _did_ she?

No satisfying, crystal-clear answer emerged from her tangled web of thoughts. All she knew was that she _needed_ to stick around for a bit, just to make sure Allie was okay. Because she was a good person and she cared.  

_About Allie?_

Maybe she did. And perhaps she _could_ leave… she just didn’t _want_ to.

And, in another sense of the word…she still _couldn’t_. Because _something_ held her in place.

It wasn’t an answer, or a resolve, it only gave way for a million other clashing questions to form and taunt her. But against all impulses to the contrary, she stayed a little while longer.

She moved quietly around the blonde’s house, still feeling more like an intruder in her personal space if nothing else. Her eyes chased the picture that intrigued her earlier yet again and, this time, she had to answer her own curiosity. She got up from her spot and inched closer to the frame, noting the kind smile the woman standing next to Allie wore.

As she studied the image more intently, her eyes darted to the other person. Her fingers brushed across the frame on their own accord, tracing the contour of a much younger-looking Allie staring back at her. She couldn’t have been older than 18. But there was an underlying layer of sadness to her gaze even then. It was the same one Bea caught many unintended glimpses of in the short time she’s known her.

Maybe _“known”_ was a much too generous word. For all intents and purposes, she still _didn’t_.

 _Did_ she?

Nevertheless, she still suspected it was a side of Allie that she kept locked away from the rest of the world. In this captured moment, however, her sadness was a lot more vivid – there was only a dim, candle-like flicker of light in her eyes, despite that seemingly honest grin gracing her features. And, as always, Bea noticed. She wondered if the rest of the world bothered to. The resounding _“no”_ as the answer yet again was just another reason why life was so goddamn unfair.

She was pretty.

Underneath it all and above everything else.

The thought slipped into her mind out of nowhere. There was also a vibrant innocence to picture Allie, a child-like quality. As Bea pondered further, she suspected that was yet another one of her things. She cast another fugitive look at the woman now resting peacefully on the couch like the weight of the world was slowly falling off her shoulders.

She saw no difference.

And maybe it was precisely that, this growing, inexplicable but undeniable _need_ to help Allie shed some of that weight which made her unable to pull away from this room, from her presence. She didn’t know where _that_ was coming from or how long she stood there yet again but, she suspected, by the night dawning outside and the rain scaling down, settling into a light shower that it was at least an hour.

All throughout, Allie rattled a few more times, going through those same episodes and she calmed her down every time, the best she could, either by holding her close or whispering sweet nothings in her ear or anything she could remember Franky or Debbie doing for her that could have helped the restless blonde, too.

When the window between the episodes grew longer and longer, she took it as a cue that Allie would be alright for the rest of the night – as okay as she could be, given the circumstances - that whatever she was doing seemed to help her, if only temporarily. She was just about to turn on her heel when she caught sight of a notepad lying on the blonde’s table.

She absentmindedly ripped a sheet from it and scribbled down the words:

_Call me when it gets bad. No questions asked._

She had no idea why she offered but it didn’t matter now. It was the last thing that mattered.

She _needed_ to leave.

This time, she _had_ to go.

She sent another charged look towards the blonde’s still, tranquil frame, finally allowing herself to exhale heavily like she’s been holding her breath for days. She was physically by the doorway and mentally one foot out the door again when something stronger than her own willpower washed over her, making her turn around on impulse, almost abruptly, something she couldn’t _fight_.

She _was_ a fighter. Sure, she emerged battled, bruised and scarred but she won plenty of fights in the past. This, on the other hand, was a much different, unfamiliar type of war, one that had started brewing a while ago, a lot longer than she even knew. And if there was anything Bea Smith was known for, it was her stubbornness, her resilience. She was about to put one hell of a fight.

Just not right _now_.

This was _one_ small battle in a grand war that she was about to lose, one she had no idea she was even fighting. If she did, she might have come prepared, all guns blazing.

And maybe it was the pitch-black darkness of this room, holding her in place because it matched the darkness in her…

Maybe it was the blonde’s angelic visage, closed eyes and still much too small and fragile frame, barely filling the space she was contemplating so wistfully now, casting that single light upon it, luring her in, like a moth to a flame..

Maybe it was all the ways she still reminded her of her own daughter, all the ways she brought out that instinct to care and protect in her…

Maybe it was her own body reacting instinctively before her rational mind could slam the brakes...

In a flash, she was back by Allie’s side like she never left.

She swallowed that lingering breath stuck in her throat, then gently brushed her fingers across Allie’s pale cheek in quiet wonder. She cast a fugitive, enthralled look to the blonde’s slightly parted lips, breathing out in sheer relief the same time she did, then stared back up. With still trembling fingers, she reached out to fix her hair again, then placed a chaste, lingering kiss on Allie’s forehead.

Second time around, she didn’t look back.

Something told her she shouldn’t.

Allie didn’t call.

No matter how much she needed to, no matter how many times she _almost_ dialed the number. Her hand always froze mid-motion right before pressing the call button _._ Because, above all, she felt ashamed and vulnerable. And unworthy of anything more from her. She did, however, express her gratitude in her own language.

Because the very next day, Bea woke up with a massive bouquet of red roses delivered to her doorstep, completed by an elegant, handwritten note. If the sight of the flowers wasn’t enough to send another electric shock to her previously numb heart, the words did:

_Still not a serial killer..or a stalker, I promise. Franky gave me your address._

_P.S. Thank you,_

_A._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope this chapter makes you ask yourself if you missed something, too…

It’s been almost a week since Allie had last seen Bea. 5 days, 17 hours and 25 minutes, to be exact. Not that the blonde was keeping score or anything. The note Bea had left her wasn’t even cutting holes in her blazer pocket or taunting her anymore. It was just a piece of paper that happened to be sheltered there, close to her heart, like a treasured gift. She didn’t even check to see if it was still there, safe and sound and protected from the world every second of every day.

It wasn’t like she couldn’t focus for the entire morning on the outrageous demands of yet another bridezilla who wouldn’t understand that, with flowers, less is more. If Allie didn’t love those little beauties so much, she would have thrown a bouquet of _everything_ at her face.

Because you don’t have to add every single one of them to make an impact, for crying out loud. What happened to weddings being an occasion to celebrate love, not show-off how extravagant your floral arrangements could be? Allie rolled her eyes to the back of her head, then grumbled under her breath some more long after the unwelcome guest had left.

No one understood her pretty ones like she did. Uncultured peasants.

And speaking of her pretty ones….

The fact that her first instinct was to reach for a single red rose, bring it closer to her lips, breathe it in and sigh dreamily had nothing to do with a particular someone still governing every corner of her mind. No, she was just angry and needed a flower to calm down. It was sheer coincidence that she went for this one, it wasn’t like certain flowers had specific meanings for a florist, no, no way. She was just following the laws of proximity and this one happened to be right here…she didn’t need to walk to the other side of the room to retrieve it.

What she _did_ need was some air.

Right now.

Thank God her lunch break was here. That, and she also had her treasured assistant back, ready to assist…and save her life, too. It was long overdue. She could finally leave her post for a bit and trust that someone had a handle on things, maybe take a walk to clear her head, get a coffee, daydream about…the clouds adorning the sky and other neutral things that didn’t rhyme with the word “sea.”

All of the above and, of course, not grab her phone on her way out. She could leave it behind, piece of cake. She didn’t need it. So what if she was a millennial? She wasn’t glued to the thing. That, and certainly didn’t want (more like _ached_ ) to call anyone in particular.

She could do it. She was a grown, independent young woman, whose entire life was not governed by technology. She saw enough dystopian movies to know that never ended well.

But what if she missed…an _important_ call? Kim, Ruby, Fletch, her ex…what if one of them had an emergency or a life and death situation and they needed her? Scratch that, she blocked her ex’s number ages ago and, to be fair, she didn’t give much of a shit if anything happened to her. She’d probably pop open a bottle of champagne just for the occasion.

No, she still needed her phone close by, within arms’ reach. For…reasons. Finally settled in her resolve, she grabbed it, along with her wallet, let her assistant know that she’d be out for an hour or so before making her way out to the street.

The warm and inviting noon air greeting her like a security blanket offered temporary solace, calming down her previous anger bit by bit. She could already feel her mood shifting. Maybe today wasn’t completely ruined, after all.

As fate or maybe divine intervention would have it, she only managed to take one or two steps away from the shop when her gaze caught a familiar flash of red on the far right, on the opposite end of the street. She was pretty sure she could single out that flash of red from the other side of the world. Because she had perfect vision, of course. The heart glasses on top that she was sporting now, alongside a goofy grin that could have split her entire face in half just…appeared. Randomly.

The sun came up, that’s all.

Well, maybe _her_ sun.

Because Allie was a very subtle, graceful person, she didn’t drop everything like an overly excited flowery child and sprung towards the proud bearer of that long, luscious, gorgeous red hair she dreamed of running her hand through every minute of every day…no, she walked in her general direction like a normal person. Steady, calm pace, one foot in front of the other. Stealthily, too. Like a ninja even.

Bea didn’t spot her. Because, as she got closer and closer, Allie realized why – she had her hands full. The fact that she looked absolutely adorable juggling a box of different photo albums, some papers, her car keys and a phone she barely held to her ear, rested between her shoulder blade and her cheek did not affect the current state of Allie’s palms, breathing or heart..at all. Neither did Bea’s cranky gestures and eye-rolls that she could recognize from a mile away. Her hands were just getting moist because it was warm out here. And she just licked her lips because she was… _thirsty._

And not in Franky’s understanding of the word.

Speaking of the future bride…

“For fuck’s sake, Doyle, anything else? If Bridget doesn’t ask for an early divorce by tomorrow, then I am. Course there’s such a thing as a friend divorce, _moron._ I’m filing it right now and you’d better sign the papers or I’m—“

When Allie graced her field of vision like an angel from above (halo included), making her presence known with a dorky, unnecessary wave because she was literally standing mere inches away from Bea’s face now, the frenzied redhead nearly dropped everything she was carrying. Just in time to save the day and, because she also happened to be a perfect gentleman, the blonde swooped in, gracefully. She flashed a brilliant smile Bea’s way that may or may not have caused her knees to buckle before wordlessly taking the box from her hands, then reluctantly stepping back to give her some privacy.

Needless to say, that smooth gesture caused all words to die in her brain and on her lips. She let out a faint gasp, as a ranting Doyle was left to Doyle by herself on the other side of the line.

“C-can I call you back, Franky?” – Bea replied, a million galaxies later, finding her voice in shambles. Because that shaky, breathy tone she just forced out with superhuman efforts sounded alien to her own ears.  “Allie…Allie’s here.”

_“Oooh is she decent? She wearin’ any clothes? Plus-one-d her already? Deflowered the flower, haven’t ya, Red, ya naughty fox, couldn’t wait for my big night, could ya--“_

“Bye, Franky.”

_“Don’t you mean bi…”_

“I’m hanging up on your ass—“

_"Oiiii, Red, wait up, listen, need any pointers? I got you, girl--“_

“God—“

_“I can teach ya how to make your woman say that too but it’s gonna cost ya like 50 bucks--"_

“Changed my mind, blocking your number. Find a new maid of honor.”

Bea cleared her throat then shook her head almost violently to drown any and all remains of the bride’s scratchy voice and shameless insinuations. No use. That asshole was still in her head long after the line went dead, like always. By this cursed moment, Bea was sure Franky had set up camp in her brain. Hold on, now she’s roasting marshmallows and playing dirty campfire songs in her temporal lobe because why _wouldn’t_ she?

The redhead suddenly wearing fifty shades of Scarlett on her face all at once had everything to do with the weather. It really was warm outside today.

“Thought that was you.. “ – Allie greeted as soon as Bea put her phone down, with only half the cheer her voice usually held. Her tone matched the hoarseness in Bea’s to a T. Maybe there was a virus in the air affecting…everyone’s voice.

_Great opening, Novak. Show-stopping, award winning, what can I say. If you’re competing in the epic-fail-olympics—_

Allie’s alter-ego had a way of coming out at the worst possible moment, too. But it also made a valid point.

“Did my pleasant exterior give me away?” – Bea chirped, sarcastically, only getting 50% of her normal tone back.

Allie took it literally because _that_ was the only right interpretation.

“No, your hair. Could stop traffic.”

_And a heart._

Bea fixed her collar, nervously, shifting her weight on her left leg in an attempt to steady herself. That odd weakness in her knees was still there. She had just been walking around all day, running final errands for Doyle-zilla. That had to be it, no other special reason. Nothing to do with that playful wink the flower girl just gave her.

“Rough morning?” – Allie continued, sympathetically, moving a bit too close to her jittery and oddly flushed companion. In her defense, the traffic was loud, she just wanted to make sure Bea heard her.

Same Bea now squinting like even that bright, innocent ray of light that the mighty sun dared to bestow upon her beautiful face was getting on her nerves. Allie happened to appreciate the view. Because she had a keen eye for art.

“More like rough life…” – Bea complained, with a perfectly synchronized eye-roll. “Thank God Doyle is getting married tomorrow or I swear to God.“

“Tell me about it.” – Allie scoffed right back. “But believe it or not, she’s one of the more…pleasant customers we have.”

“Then _you_ must run a freak show…”

“We all need jobs, huh?”

“Thanks, Allie.” – Bea cleared her throat again, finally retrieving the box from Allie’s hands. When their fingers brushed accidentally, the redhead jolted back and nearly jumped out of her skin straight into the sky…this one above her head, along with five others on top from five different alternate dimensions.

That hectic, knee-jerk reaction had nothing to do with the bride’s previous words still poking holes in her brain or anything. A split-second flash of hurt passed onto Allie’s eyes as she caught it - she had no ground to suspect the reason…. _changed._

Nevertheless, it was enough to make the blonde switch her weight from one leg to the other too, almost awkwardly. She was sensing this change of energy between them and it filled her entire chest with apprehension.

Maybe Bea didn’t want anything to do with her after what she’s seen last time. That grim thought was enough to add crushing pain, coupled with a layer of despair on top…but she had to at least _try._

“Are you um…are you doing anything right now?” – Allie asked, hesitantly, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand.

“Not really, no…”

Bea’s shrug, followed by a friendly, welcoming smile was the much needed cue for her to relax. The redhead didn’t seem mad at her lack of recent contact, either. Who was she kidding? Bea was probably just being nice, not actually expecting her to take her up on that much too generous offer anyway.

Maybe she was over-thinking this.

“Just gotta throw these away for Doyle right back to the “horrible hell they came from.”. It’s her “pile of terrible”.

Allie’s face morphed into a confused (and adorable) expression.

“Photo samples she hated.” – Bea clarified, already answering her unspoken question…like a psychic.

“She’s really big on the photos, huh?”

“Think she’s planning memories for the next generation of mini-Doyles already.”

“Can you imagine the horror? Those mini-devils running around?”

Unknowingly, Allie’s eyes softened at the edges and that ever-so-present spark in them spread and shone a little brighter. It always did when anyone brought up the subject of children around her…or when she did it herself. Bea _still_ didn’t have a heart – but the sight before her created one out of thin air just to melt it a second after.

She’d be good at that too, if you asked her. Anyone would be lucky to have Allie as a mom.

“Thank God for Bridget…least they’ll have _some_ manners when they cause the next nuclear war.”

“Excuse me, government official….may I destroy the planet, kind sir? Why yes you may.” – Allie added in her Victorian Era voice, stealing an unintended chuckle from her redheaded… _friend?_

“Anyways uh…I’m off the hook for today. She’s saving all the favors I still owe her for tomorrow. “

“Great. How ‘bout you grab a coffee with your favorite person in the world, then?” – Allie proposed in faux-self confidence, despite her raging nerves and her palms getting even stickier. Luckily for her, Bea was still the usual pile of oblivious with the clueless icing on top.

“Debbie?”

“Second favorite…?

“Franky?”

Not at the moment of speaking but…

“Third…?”

“Maxine?”

“Oh, come on, Bea. I know I’m at the top of the list---“

She was. Or, at the very least, rising to the top, step by step, with each passing day. But Bea would rather cut her own arm with a rusty chainsaw than let her mind go down _that_ rabbit hole.

“So, Allie, just out of curiosity…when you walk through a door…does your ego ever fit in or do they have to build a custom one for ya?”

Allie’s eyes softened even more, the insult flying right over her head. Instead, she diverted it and took it to the heart like Cupid’s arrow. She missed this. She missed _her._

“Ha-ha. I take it that’s a yes.“

It’s only been a few days and it felt like a lifetime. She was in too deep. But right now she was also too happy to care.

“Plus, you look like you could use the caffeine.”

“Is that _your_ way of telling me I look terrible?”

“You could never.”

This time, Allie’s voice softened, too. Bea sheltered her gaze, shyly, as a faint rosy hue spread over her cheeks. She wasn’t aware of the change – but Allie saw.

_I still got it._

And so did her ego.

The much too excited blonde suggested they go to this small, but elegant coffee place down by the beach. The fact that her entire face lit up like a Christmas tree when she talked about how great their coffee was (she might have used the phrases _“it’s not to-go coffee, it’s to-come-back-for-fifty-more-cups-coffee”_ and “ _drinks of the Gods”_ , because she was not a geek at all) was enough to get Bea on board, too. Not that she even cared where they were going or what they were doing. She was just happy (more like _relieved_ ) to see Allie again, looking chipper and at least half-rested…because she didn’t miss her everyday or anything. That would be crazy. She just happened to think about her…occasionally. A normal amount.

Allie still had some faded dark circles under her eyes but that extra spring in her step and her almost intoxicating energy were positive signs that she was better, least from where Bea was standing. As they walked side by side, with Allie occasionally staring at her profile a little too hard, smiling goofily, before looking back down, pretending to find the sand below her feet downright fascinating, the blonde realized that this, right here, was one of her happy places. Maybe the happiest of them all.

She thought the café was because she spent half of her youth there – replacing one drug with another - but she was wrong. It had nothing on this.

“Hey, Bea…”– Allie moved closer, leaning into Bea’s side, breaking the peaceful, almost magical quiet that settled between them in true dumbass fashion. She lowered her tone dramatically, facing Bea completely now, allowing her very scary _“Saw”_ impression to take the stage.

“I want to play a game.”

Because every good nerd needed a good impression.

The standing ovation she was hoping for didn’t come. But, surprisingly, Bea got the reference –Franky tortured her into watching the first installment once. The movie was more torturous than whatever Jigsaw did to those poor idiots, if you’d ask her.

“You still want to kill me?”

“No, _silly,_ not right now, I don’t.”

Bea rolled her eyes. So it was still on the agenda – good to know.

“No, this one’s called _“Allie can guess my coffee order in less than 5 tries.”_

“Is that supposed to be impressive?”

Allie graciously breezed past that are-you-serious undertone. She was a woman of many skills and this nonbeliever (very _beautiful_ nonbeliever, from her vantage point) was just about to be amazed.

“Black. One sugar…”

“Hmmm….wrong.”

“Okay…so maybe something a little foamy but not too girly…sounds more like ya. Cappuccino?”

“Nope.”

“Something stronger and less foamy then…? Espresso?”

“No.”

“That’s it – a mix of the two. Flat white – no sugar. Because you’re sweet enough by yourself and all.”

“Aren’t you a detective…” – Bea praised (more like insulted) sarcastically, a faint blush covering her cheeks again, unnoticed. She got it right. “And it only took you 50 years to crack the case, impressive indeed.”

“I choose to celebrate little victories, Bea. And you’re not paying, it’s on me.”

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

“I can ask…nicely?” – Allie punctuated the tenderness in her statement visually, too – by putting on her best puppy face. No one resisted in the past.

Bea was too busy melting right there like an ice cream to even register the sneaky blonde turning towards the barista, whispering something in his ear, slipping him a massive tip, before facing her again, all innocently, raising no suspicion whatsoever. She _was_ stealthy as a ninja, after all.

“So, Bea…I’m gonna need you to do something else for me, can you do that?”

“Is this an elaborate scheme to kill me—“

“Do you trust me?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Allie laughed joyously. That warm fuzzy feeling and the butterflies swirling in her chest almost derailed her off the task at hand. Almost. She shook her head to re-focus. She was on a mission.

“Close your eyes.”

“So you can slit my throat when I’m not looking—“

Allie let out another snort of amusement, this time wiping her smudged mascara, too. Bea might have cracked a smile too, though a part of her still genuinely feared for her life. It’s the nice ones you have to look out for.

“Okay, _skeptical_ , we’ll do it together, then.”

The redhead barely had time to hear (and welcome) the peace offering, when Allie slipped out of her sight with the speed of an arrow. Bea was just about to turn around and ask her what in the world was she was up to again…when she felt an even stronger dash of Allie’s perfume filling her nostrils and a pair of amazingly soft hands circling her shoulders from behind. Slowly, but surely, those same hands began traveling higher, touching both sides of her neck, then gently covering her eyes.

If the blonde wasn’t holding onto her, she could have fallen over backwards right there. Maybe she should get that knee situation checked. It’s never too early for arthritis…but she wasn’t _that_ old, was she? Is 35 old? Asking for a friend, of course..

“No peeking.” – Allie’s frame shifted closer, as she whispered in her ear, taking all of her previous thoughts and throwing them out the window. Her lips faintly ghosted over her earlobe and Bea could have sworn her heart just skipped a beat.

She didn’t need to see it, she knew this sneaky _idiot_ was smiling, too. But she was too busy forgetting how to breathe that whatever witty comeback she was about to shoot next remained unspoken. It got stuck in her throat, along with all the air she failed to expel.

“So.. you know how I told you nerds created the best things in the world...”- Allie’s hot breath making her skin tingle and the echoes of her calming, mezzo-soprano speaking voice still ringing in her ear, making the hair rise on the back of her neck, then sending chills down her spine did not help her knee situation…at all.

The shiver that just ran straight through her, causing a visible shudder to pass that even _she_ couldn’t dismiss now had everything to do with the temperature outside.

Because it got colder out of nowhere. Weird Sydney weather and all – very fickle.

“I brought evidence this time.” – Allie said it like a secret only they knew, carefully locked away from the rest of the world, before retreating her hands, taking a step back and shuffling around a little.

“You can open those _beautiful_ eyes for me now. I won’t claw them out, I promise.“

When Bea opened her eyes, she was graced with the image of a smiling Allie, handing her a to-go coffee cup like a special gift. On closer inspection, she realized why – the foam on top morphed beautifully into…a flower? 

“A flower?” – Bea voiced her thought teasingly, mustering a weaker tone than she intended. “Predictable much?”

“Look again, _blindy_. Not just _any_ flower. It’s uh.. it’s a red rose…even if you can’t see the red.”

It wasn’t lost on Bea that Allie was instantly struck by an allure of shyness and uncertainty, one she rarely saw on her, least not on this level. The blonde was now clutching her own drink a little too hard and shuffling her feet on the sand, nervously, staring intently at a single point on the floor below, like she was searching for something that wasn’t even there. However, in a matter of seconds, she was already straightening her shoulders and looking back up, switching to her usual jolly self with the touch of a button.

But Bea saw it, she caught _something_ shifting in her eyes – she didn’t know what it meant but she knew the look. Because she’s seen it before.

The flashback struck her almost brutally.

_I also remember you._

_One more thing….for you._

Allie gave her a red rose then, too. Was she missing something?

“S-so all of this just to make me change my stance on nerds…?”

“That… _too.”_

Maybe she was.

“So what, there’s another reason? Getting cryptic on me now?”

Allie was a closed book. Maybe _she_ had a case to crack now, too.

“Drink up, you’ll ruin it anyway. Come on.”

Unlike the blonde, Bea was hardly a detective.

And because she wasn’t one, she had no reason to suspect that Allie’s choices of activities for today were anything but spur-of-the-moment decisions. She had no ground to even entertain the thought that everything was planned down to the last detail. But it was.

Because _nothing_ the flower girl suggested they do today was chosen at random. There was a reason why she made her case for a walk on the beach next, one that extended far beyond enjoying Bea’s company.

Allie was taking Bea to all of her happy places.

As a comforting silence set upon the pair again, Allie let out a sigh of contentment, the pleasant quiet only interrupted by the occasional, tentative sips of drinks and maybe louder slurps from the blonde herself. That foamy, chocolaty, frappe thing she just got looked like diabetes in a cup, if you’d ask Bea. But it oddly fit her perfectly.

_Sweet drink for a sweet girl, huh, Red?_

Apparently, Franky agreed.

All the way through their walk, Bea was too lost in the confines of her own mind to notice how Allie was studying every detail of her profile every time the sun cast a passing glow on her. If you asked the enticed, lovesick blonde, the glow remained even when _that_ guy decided to light up some…other, irrelevant thing in her peripheral vision…like an idiot.

He didn’t have a keen eye for art like she did.

When they reached their intended destination, Allie nonverbally urged her present company to have a seat next to her. This specific spot on the beach had a story, too – it was where young Allie liked to come, laptop in hand and a million unrealistic goals bouncing around in her overly idealistic mind. She would watch the waves hit the shore for hours, daydreaming about owning her own company one day, drawing business plans alongside the occasional flowers and maybe sand castles, too..

Sharing this particular spot with her was Allie’s way of saying _“I want you to be a part of my world.”_ and _“You make me happy.”…_ without _actually_ saying it.

As soon as she sat down next to Bea, she repeated the most important part of that routine. She grabbed a stick and started drawing the contours of a sand castle…because she had yet to graduate from kindergarten.

Bea merely smiled fondly at the sight before her – she had already established that the blonde was a child – she was just playing the part. And marvelously at that.

“Hey, Bea…can I…can I ask you something?”

When said child’s energy shifted sharply and her voice dropped an octave, along with her entire form, Bea’s eyes shot upwards from the sand castle she was contemplating too, almost on cue.

“Everything okay?”

“Why did you help me?”

She didn’t need to elaborate. Bea read between the lines.

_I don’t know._

_I had to._

_I couldn’t leave you._

……was what she really wanted to say. But each sentence only petrified her more than the previous one. So much so that she froze on the spot.

She opened her mouth to say _something_.

She had _nothing._

And Allie sensed it immediately. Scared that she made her uncomfortable with her stupid question, already seeing the walls coming up, she cautiously moved closer to Bea. She was just about to take it back when the redhead spoke again.

“I don’t see why not.” – was all Bea _could_ give, eventually, once her frozen brain decided to cooperate with her.

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t the whole truth, either.

As for Allie? No one ever put it like that. And really, it was that simple. Maybe people could have helped her before, and not just with her nightmares. But they made the conscious choice not to because it was too much effort for them.

It didn’t seem like _any_ effort to her.

“I just.. I…I wanted to thank you for that.”

_And I don’t know how._

“You already did. The flowers, remember? Thank you, by the way…they were beautiful.”

_You are beautiful._

Allie looked away, self-consciously, grabbing the stick again, absentmindedly drawing a string of water around her sand castle, still determined to finish her crafted masterpiece.

It paled in comparison - the real artwork was sitting right beside her.

“Hope you didn’t think that was too stalker-y of me.”

“Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie to you?”

“I’d prefer the truth.”

“It wasn’t… _.too_ stalker-y.”

“So it was a little…”– the flower girl stopped drawing for a second just to flash a tentative, shy smile in Bea’s direction that might have caused her heart to do _the thing_ again. “Dully noted.”

Bea returned the gesture weakly, then stared back down at the bottom of her coffee cup, like it held all the answers she was looking for. No trace of the flower anymore. She didn’t know why the loss of that sight made her a little gloomy. It was just a geeky latte art thing…right?

“Are you um…are you okay? You know, with the—“

“Yeah, I…it’s a bit better, I…tried what you said. And it helped. Thank you.”

_Not as much as having you there did._

“That’s…that’s good to hear.”

“I just...” – the younger woman nibbled on her bottom lip, still playing with that stupid stick like it was her lifeline. By this point, she wasn’t even drawing anything, just shuffling it around the sand in left to right motions, hoping the steady rhythm would ground her somehow.

“I want you to know that it meant a lot to me. Everything you did for me that day.”

“I didn’t… _do_ anything, Allie.” – Bea let out a muffled, self-depreciating noise that almost resembled laughter. Like everything about her, even that was said with a heart-wrenching modesty.

The sight made every breath Allie took linger heavy on her chest…because how could she _not_ know?

 _…Everything_ she did? Everything she was _still_ doing?

The blonde had no way of knowing how long Bea sat with her either or even what she witnessed. But what Allie saw with her own two eyes was that she didn’t leave when she could have. It was all that mattered. And that was nowhere close to nothing, it was _everything_.

She needed to try again.

“Course you did.”

She wouldn’t stop trying even if it was the last thing she did.

But it wasn’t about to be easy. Bea had already slipped out of her grasp before she could get close enough to reach her in the first place. She was staring far ahead like she was in a trance, hugging her knees close to her chest, as her eyes traced every wave hitting the shore. She was looking for something to ground her all the same.

Allie was only looking at her.

“You stayed.”

_When everyone else left._

Hesitantly, the blonde inched closer to her again. As the gentle breeze led a stubborn strand of her hair astray, causing it to fall upon Bea’s face, hiding those warm, expressive brown eyes she loved so much, Allie couldn’t stop herself. She still ached to see them, even if they refused to meet her own.

Before the redhead could reach out and fix it herself, Allie touched her arm, softly, as if asking for permission. Sensing no opposition, she tucked those loose curls away over her shoulder, her fingers grazing over her back a little too long to be just friendly.

“It’s more than most people would do.”

If Bea hadn’t reacted instantly to her touch with a strong shiver, Allie could have sworn she wasn’t even there anymore. Because it seemed like the transfixed redhead was hearing what she was saying but not _listening_ to a word of it.

Bea was still so focused on the view ahead, almost like she was counting every wave.

“You…you made sure I got home safe and you stuck around when you didn’t owe me anything so it was…it was more than I deserved from you.”

It was those words that pulled her from her hypnotized state, at last. Partly because of the sheer fragility and solemn undertone in the voice that said them, partly because the echo of every word matched Bea’s own shattered interior. When she finally tore her gaze from the waves ahead to meet another endless stretch of blue, she felt like she was drowning, no shore in sight this time.

From where she was standing, Allie deserved so much more than that.

She had no idea she wanted to be the one to give it to her.

“Sorry, I just…I…”

_I don’t know how to say it._

And when Bea’s eyes shifted away from this new, calmer sea as she looked down again, not bearing the tortured sound of Allie’s voice and the sheer absence of hers any longer, she was shot back to life by the same pair of arms from before circling around her in a warm embrace. She didn’t know when or how Allie got there, only felt her grasp on her shoulders and a feather-light touch of warm skin against her neck. All she knew was that Allie’s hold was gentle and undemanding, like everything about her. She wasn’t asking for anything when the entire world owed her just that.

The flower girl held her so protectively and close to the heart, like she was the only person in the world who knew why she needed it and just how much. That knowledge shook her even more – because Allie _still_ didn’t know much of anything about her. At the same time, she seemed to know everything she needed, whether it was a dumb joke or coffee or silent encouragement or even….this.

She would have lost it right there if the soulful blonde loosened her grip even a little – because Bea was starting to realize no one else had ever paid that much attention to her and her only. It didn’t surprise her that Allie did – she’s never met anyone as thoughtful as her, from everything she was willing to do for Franky and Bridget’s wedding to everything she was doing now. She held her close like she just knew she was about to break – and Bea had about a million reasons to.

Thankfully, Allie didn’t let go - _that_ kept her together. She sat there for as long as she felt she was allowed, before reluctantly retreating just a little to voice the words:

“Thank you….again.”

And this time around, when a long moment of silence ensued again, nothing lingered heavy in the air. Now they were both staring at the waves…and maybe occasionally at each other, too. Soon enough, the atmosphere changed again, switching back from uncharted territory to familiarity.

“You know..I’m really excited ‘bout tomorrow.” – Allie broke the ice once more, as always.    

“Why, got your speech about “The Netflix” ready?”

“I don’t do speeches, Bea. “

“Are you being sarcastic right now, Ms. TV-is-inspiring?”

“I’m not good with words.”

_Well, in that case you’ll have a very beautiful wedding._

_Oh, wow…way to brighten a girl’s day._

_You could never ruin anything for me._

_No way you could be terrible at anything._

_If anyone can fix me, it’s gotta be you._

Bea found that hard to believe.

“I’m also really sorry for…” – Allie switched in her seat, this time tossing that useless stick altogether. “I won’t be able to do this the way I wanted to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember the bride’s last minute idea?” – the florist sighed, regretfully. It was times like these she really hated how she had a job to do…first, above everything else. Damn her and her flawless work ethic.

“ _That_ cheese-fest? What about it?”

“Yeah…it might take a bit more work than we anticipated..so me and the team are gonna have to get there early to set up a few things. I’ll have to meet you and Franky there. I’m so sorry….”

Same Franky who just learned that even the planner can….throw a curveball at her own plan.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Well if it was up to me I would’ve done this right, woo-ed you a little.” – Allie masked the gloom in her voice with eccentric hand gestures. She moved her legs, ruining her own castle in the process, completely unfazed by the action. Not important anymore. “Picked you up in a fancy limo cause that’s how you escort a lady, got you one of those cliché matching hand accessory things to go with my dress like junior prom and there’d be flowers everywhere and—“

“Deal with me getting nauseous all over that?”

Despite just voicing the complete opposite, Bea was more touched than she’d ever admit in a million years that Allie seemed to have put a lot of thought into this…she genuinely seemed excited to be doing this with _her_ , of all people and visibly upset she had to skip one of the steps. It warmed her heart more than she felt comfortable admitting. She couldn’t name a single other person who would have gone through all that trouble, even in theory…for her.

“Mock me all you want but that’s a risk I’d be willing to take. I take my designated plus-one role very seriously, Bea. Thank God there’s not a flower in sight to hear what you just said…cuz she’d tell on ya to the others.”

“What, they’re like a sect or something?”

“Duh. Flowers’ Annonymous.”

Bea laughed out loud. The sound could have made a new heart grow in Allie’s chest, if the one she had wasn’t already too large for that constricting space now.

“It doesn’t matter, Allie…”

_It does to me._

“Not a big deal, don’t worry…”

_It is to me._

“Plus, I have to help the bride get ready too. Everyone else is running point on keeping her and Bridget separated, something about the element of surprise or whatever. Course _I’m_ stuck with the less pleasant one of the two. “ – Bea rolled her eyes, then huffed in indignation.

Allie was starting to suspect it was just her standard reaction when the Franky topic came through.

“If she doesn’t give me any reason to get her there in a body bag, we should be there pretty early too. Franky’s gonna cry or something—“

“I hope she does. We’re bringing out the heavy artillery. But other than that, no changes. I’m still under strict orders from her to perform plus-one duties as soon as I see you or she’ll quote unquote break my legs.” – Allie added, pointing to her legs, imitating a snapping motion…like a twig.

Bea knew Franky well enough to assume the threat was real. She finally got her reason to deliver a dead bride to her own wedding, wrapped in a fancy bow on top…well, maybe reason numero five hundred on her list.

“And what would those be?”

_Take care of this one for me, will ya?_

_You didn’t even have to ask._

_I mean it, blondie, it’s important. Weddings aren’t easy for her, okay?_

_Wait, why---_

_Just answer the question, Flower McChatty, can I count on ya or not?_

_Of course._

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know?”

“Seriously, Allie, you’re using _my_ line against me?”

“And what if I am?” – Allie replied, cheekily, licking her lips, immediately drawing a specific someone’s attention to them…who may have just gulped slyly. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see….” – she trailed off, smirking even more. “Sucks to be you.”

Check and mate.

Allie did promise to set the score straight last time…and she was a woman of her word.

Even in that languid, dream-like state, Bea would have gladly wiped that proud smirk off her face then flung her into the sea for the sharks to devour her on sight…if her muscles weren’t still weirdly unresponsive. She’s just been sitting down for a while, that’s where the numbness and this odd tingly feeling in her every tissue were coming from. Made perfect sense.

_Blondie giving ya the chills, eh, Red? Y’know, ya can turn on the heat pretty easily, just--_

“Thanks for hanging out with me for a bit. “ – Allie announced, eventually, casting a disappointed, almost resentful look at her wristwatch and those ungodly numbers it dared to show her. She had to go back.

She would have given anything to freeze time right there.

Since the universe had a longstanding history of not complying to her wishes, she sighed again, dusting her skirt and lifting herself up, not before offering her hand for Bea to take, like a gentleman, helping her up, too. This time around, when she touched it, the still weakened redhead didn’t pull away or flinch.

Allie merely smiled, pleased to see that reaction and even more pleased with herself – Bea wasn’t that far off, she _did_ have an ego the size of King Kong. But she also just saw wall number 1 out of 50 falling down and crumbling to dust before her.

She was a skilled person….and patience made top of that list. She had all the time in the world to chip at the rest of those walls…unfortunately for her, just not right _now_.

“This was a trial run for tomorrow. Think we’re doing good so far, huh?” – the blonde motioned between them with her other hand, before sending a cheeky, over-the-shoulder wink to her unsuspecting company.

Whose knee situation still hasn’t improved, for the record.

“Well, y-you didn’t try to kill me so…” – Bea’s voice trembled, just in time to match other parts of her body getting shakier, too, because a particular someone still hasn’t let go of her hand.

Despite that, a light bulb still turned on in her head instantly. Her body was weak but her brain was still sharp as a knife.

“Hold on, you’re planning on doing it tomorrow, aren’t ya?”

She studied every inch of the blonde’s suspiciously neutral face but…

Allie’s mouth was set into a firm line. She was a closed book…again.

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know..”

Bea thought she finally managed a proper glare.

“I _swear_ to God, Allie—“

She was wrong.

Allie’s grin could spread across a continent.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their outfits:
> 
> Allie - https://bit.ly/2FglQLg  
> Bea – https://bit.ly/2FcXFwZ  
> Franky - https://bit.ly/2Zu0rWi 
> 
> P.S. The more I write this, the sadder I am that no one turned it into Wentworth/Ballie the movie. Cuz there’s a whole movie playing in my head and I would’ve loved to get the actors on board…sigh. Trying my best to restore it on paper for you, guys. If you haven’t ditched me a million years back….there’s wedding bells in the air…and sexual tension. :D

**_(Don't_** **_go, stay with me, please.)_ **

**_(I’m not going anywhere.)_ **

_She knew she should leave. She was standing by the doorway just a moment ago. She didn’t know how she got here, now. But she was drawn to blonde locks sprawled all over ivory pale skin like an explorer to uncharted territory. All she could feel now was that soft skin underneath her fingertips. She was entrapped by plump, rosy lips, always speaking words she never deserved and peacefully drawn eyelids over sky-blue orbs, always seeing too much hope and beauty in a wicked world…and even more in her._

_"Bea…?”_

_She was seeing them so clearly now._

_“You stayed…”_

_She was hearing her even clearer._

_“Why are you helping me?”_

_Allie was wide awake. And so was she._

_"I couldn’t leave you, Allie.”_

_As soon as those eyes fluttered open, her hand fell down._

_“Why?”_

_It had no right to be there anymore._

_"I don’t know.”_

_Allie caught it and held on. Like she always did for her._

_"Then please don’t go. “_

_She was seeing the waves again._

_"Because I..I want you to stay.”_

_It didn’t feel like drowning anymore._

_"Why?”_

_"You know why.“_

_Allie was a breath away from her now. Her hand was on her cheek, as the parted lips she was staring at earlier drew closer and closer to hers…_

“Oiiii, dreamy, gawkin’ at my bow tie won’t make the knot tie itself. Ain’t a fuckin’ clip-on, y’know. “

She was woken up – quite roughly – by the sound of Franky snapping her fingers in her face. She didn’t see it, she only heard it. Because her eyes were still deadset on showing her figments of something else… _mortifying_ figments.

“What?”

“Spacing out on my big day, maid of horror?

_Daydreaming about a special someone?_

Even when she didn’t speak, Franky was on point.

More accurately put, Bea was reliving the most confusing dream of her entire existence…on loop. Over and over again until it drove her crazy. That twisted dream she had last night had to be the result of Franky’s voice in her head finally getting to her, mixed with some of Allie’s words from yesterday, along with her unspoken ones slipping in, unconsciously. No one understood the inner workings of the human brain, right? It just mixed and matched whatever it wanted, however it wanted. That’s all there was to it. 

Kiss? What kiss? Allie was just reaching out to…

_Tongue-punch you…gently?_

_Release the gay kraken in ya?_

_Hey, Red, *sips tea* you didn’t exactly push dem lady lovin’ lips away, y’know, but that’s none of my business--_

Great. Voice-over Franky _and_ the real Franky in the same space, at the same time. The universe just exploded. The apocalypse was coming.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, then?”           

It was at that moment Bea realized she just yelled at the wrong Franky.

“Rude much, _nightmare-y?”_

Same Bea now frozen in place, blinking rapidly to gather a sense of her surroundings. She needed a head-scan alright. Maybe a new head altogether. Do they sell those on Amazon? It’s the 21st century.

“For your sake, I’ll assume ya weren’t talking to your oldest and dearest friend. Ya still owe me and I can’t collect any favors from a corpse, so focus before I turn ya into one, I need you.”

“Sorry, Franky…” – Bea looked down, just in time to notice her own hands fumbling with the bride’s still undone bowtie.

_Did she just apologize to me?_

“Thought ya don’t do apologies, _Cruella_ , this your special wedding gift? Flattery won’t get ya anywhere, already promised to my one and only. Too late to put a ring on me but hey, blondie’s always available—“

“W-what?”

Same hands now pulling on that bow tie with an iron grip.

“Oiiii, too tight, _moron_ , ya tryin’ to strangle me?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Franky…” – the redhead jolted back like she just got electrocuted.

Only now did she fully register where she was and what she was supposed to be doing.

“Ya never apologize and ya just did it...twice. The fuck is up with you today, Red? Whoever this is, ain’t _my_ best friend.”

“There. Stupid knot’s done. “– Bea punctuated her welcome return to the realm of the living with a much needed insult, finally tying the knot…and not in the way the bride insinuated she would _ever_ do…with a particular someone…who wasn’t even on her mind anymore. Kiss, what kiss?

“Now will you just get off my back?”

_That’s more like it._

“Why, saving that space for someone else? If blondie’s creative, think she can work with that angle, too--”

“You know what--“

Apparently, the bride had other plans for her already cluttered head. And they all rhymed with _“Sally.”_

“Speaking of goldilocks... ya don’t, by any chance, mind doing this with her today, do ya?”

“ _Now_ you’re asking, really? After you already forced us into it?”

_Forced, my ass. Did ya morons a favor._

“What’s the point of this plus-one thing, again?” – Bea fixed her gentler curls, courtesy of Franky’s styling, aching to voice a curiosity of hers. “Allie and I are not even going together.”

And failing to stop that subtle hint of dejection that came along for the ride, masked well to the entire world…minus the clairvoyant bride.

“You’ll find out along with everyone else, patience, _young Jedi_. And you were supposed to, that was a small miscalculation which I was gonna apologize for. Cuz unlike you, I am capable of that.” – Franky explained, smugly, using her right arm to dust her suit again. Apparently, she was still seeing microscopic dirt particles all over it…because she was not obsessed with perfection at all today.

“How generous, _Mother Theresa_ \--“

“Insult me all you want, Red, becoming someone’s lady today so I am fresh out of fucks to give—“

“Oh, you’re getting married, really? Must’ve slipped my mind…it’s not like you’ve said it fifty times in the last hour or anything—“

“’Kay, grouchy, will ya stop grouch-ing for a second and hear me out? I gotta ask ya something.” – Franky readjusted herself, putting on her best serious face, signaling the external and internal switching to her _“concerned best friend”_ mode.

It was a rare sight, but when it appeared, it was even more persistent than the other versions of her.

“I have a feeling you’ll do it anyway.”

“Will you be alright today?” – soon-to-be Mrs. Doyle Westfall asked in a softer tone, turning in her chair to look at Bea as she did, trying to read her.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ll…I’ll be fine, Franky.” – she reassured, barely convincing herself, let alone the best friend seeing right through her right now. “Today’s about you…like the other 364.”

Same best friend now kicking her in the arm, receiving an icy glare in return. They had this unspoken agreement not to push when the other didn’t want to talk – and that was Bea for 99% of their friendship. Franky respected that, she abided by that rule religiously because she liked her bones intact and on the inside of her body… but she was still concerned.

She had to know something _else_ before she could fully focus on her wedding, guilt-free….if her plan was a success.

“So I take it you don’t mind blondie keeping ya company either? Be honest. I can still call the other options, they’d loooove to get a piece of all that goodness--” – Franky pointed to her cleavage, winking indecently.

“Jesus Christ—“

“Still not interesting enough for _Your Highness_?”

“If you want me to claw my eyes out during the ceremony then sure, give ‘em a call.“

Half of her answer just came. What Bea had no way of knowing was that, all along, Franky wasn’t hell-bent on setting her up with just about anyone to torture her…all 3 options were carefully chosen for her. The brunette was the most calculated planner of all – those were the only 3 guys in this entire world that she’d trust to take good care of her best friend for one night, make her laugh, distract her, treat her right. She would need it.

That was before she saw the way Allie looked at her, the way _she_ made her smile, the way _she_ seemed to change everything about her. That was before she rattled them both in Allie’s office on purpose…to see if she was right. And maybe for her personal enjoyment, too.

“Find a new ring bearer while you’re at it, too, cuz I’ll probably fall asleep—“

“Blondie better at keeping ya up, huh? Winky winky—“

If only Franky knew just _how_ right she was.

“For fuck’s sake—“

“Ya know what, Red?”

“What _now_?” – Bea snapped, huffing in exasperation.

“Think she was the right pick.”

The brunette was pretty sure she just got whiplash – that’s how fast Bea’s entire exterior softened. Because those words didn’t make her think about a particular set of lips. She didn’t have the sudden urge to drink a galleon of champagne, either.

Franky got her answer, if she had any lingering questions.

“Now, ya still got half of my head to straighten out. The rest of me failed but ya have one job, Red—“

“I’ll burn it. _That’s_ my special gift to you.” – Bea pointed at her with her free hand, returning to her usual, pleasant self, no touch of whatever fleeting softness Franky just saw. “Stand still or I’m flat ironing your face, too. You want Bridget to kiss charcoal?”

“She’s so Doyle’d, she’d kiss me with a trash bag on my head.” – Franky pointed out, smugly, no trace of anything but pure conviction and dreamy undertones in her voice.

The image was almost endearing enough to make Bea shut her mouth up.

“You don’t need the bag, you’re doing a fine job with the trash part all on your own—“

Almost. She had to get _that_ out of her system.

“Can’t wait for blondie to get you off my hands.”

So did Franky.

“Can’t wait to give you away so you’ll torture someone else.”

Bea snapped again, only with far less venom this time. Her best friend felt it, instantly, as a massive grin spread over her face, completed by a pair of now glazed over hazel eyes. The bride was getting emotional. That wasn’t part of the plan. And she planned _everything._

“Hug me, you asshole. Favor number 176.” – she extended her arms, welcoming a reluctant Bea in them.

“This never happened.” – she tried to pull her frame away a millisecond after, but the bride only hugged her tighter.

This time, she reciprocated, hiding a half smile. Franky eventually kissed the top of her head and stifled her tears quickly – she didn’t want to ruin her make-up. _That_ wasn’t part of the plan, either.

“By the way, looking hot, Red, wink wink nudge nudge.”

Aaand….moment over.  

“Get ready to wipe a lot of flowery drool off of ya. Need a handkerchief?“

_Blondie’s gonna faint. Need it on camera. Mental note to get it on camera._

“You’re lucky it’s your wedding day or I swear to God--”

A million verbal punches later, along with blatant sexual innuendos from Franky and snarky comebacks from Bea, the pair finally got in the car, where the same routine repeated itself all the way to Franky and Bridget’s beach mansion. But the redhead had solemnly sworn to herself that she would only set her best friend on fire _after_ the wedding. She only had…what, a few more hours?

Pfft…piece of wedding cake. She could wait. She had fantastic self-control and discipline. So much so that she hasn’t thought about a particular dream in….15 minutes, according to Franky’s wristwatch. Fuck, she was thinking about it now. No, scratch that, she wasn’t. She was already focusing on neutral things, casting a pointed look out the window towards the clear summer sky above, only adorned by a few lost, lingering clouds. Wait, _those_ clouds look…funny. Are those…seahorses? Not good. Not helping. She needed something else.

Thank God her best friend was known for anything _but_ her silence.

“Fuck, Red, I can’t believe this is happening to me.”  - Franky whined as soon as they reached their destination, holding her head in her hands.

_That makes two of us._

Not a second later, she was already pulling the key off ignition with trembling hands, just in time to match her now quivering bottom lip and even more hectic hamster-on-a-wheel mannerisms. She was freaking out.

"How the fuck did I get here?”

Good question. Definitely one Bea didn’t have about herself too or anything.

“How do I do this, Red?”

Nope, she didn’t relate to this one, either. She wasn’t dying to get her hands on all drinks available..at all.

But first…she needed to perform maid of horror and best friend duties. She was all for bringing a dead Franky to her own wedding…but she would _never_ bring a cold feet Franky to her own wedding. Over _her_ dead body, this time around.

“I fuck everything up, listen, and it’s the one thing I can’t fuck up, y’know? What if I forget my vows, Red? Why if I look like shit in our photos and she can’t show them to anyone cuz she married the bride of fucking Loch Ness? Fuck me--”

And with that, Franky dropped her sweaty hands on the steering wheel again with a loud groan. Her head fell right on top, too.

“You look fine and you’ll _be_ fine, _dumbass_ , just don’t cry all over my dress... “ – Bea reassured, rubbing her back, awkwardly.  “Or hers.”

“And don’t you dare get cold feet.”  - she added, threateningly. After all the hell she’s put her through (and Allie, by extension), the wedding had to happen even if Bridget ran for the hills and she’d have to marry Franky to her own tombstone herself.

It _would_ be a match made in heaven.

Bea could get one of those wedding minister certificates online in a heartbeat.

She didn’t want to allow her mind to go down that path but…it did before she could even slam the brakes. Aside from her best friends’ happiness, maybe some good came out of those wedding preparations for her, too. Like…getting to know _Allie_ , her….friend. And plus-one now. Whose lips were still not on her mind. Why would they be? They weren’t even…special lips. Just…standard size and shape. They weren’t perfectly curved, rosy, plump, slightly parted or… _inviting_ either. Dream? What dream?

Bea shook her head frantically to get the images out of there. Didn’t work. Franky _still_ melting into a pile of nerves next to her, on the other hand, did– she had to switch the focus to someone else’s problems. She was better at fixing those.

“We don’t do words so I won’t give you too many of them. But there’s a lot of shit you haven’t messed up. Including everything you’ve done for me.” – Bea concluded, this time gently – a rare tone she almost never used on this particular twitchy asshole now biting her nails, partly ruining her manicure.   

“So put your game face on or I’m gonna make sure there’s no face on you at all, ya hear?”

“You’re lucky I’m still scarred from when you cracked my nose…and my pride.”

“Never sneak up on a woman lifting at the gym _, idiot._ “

“Lesson learned.”

“So…is the threat of impending doom working or ya still got cold feet? Just say the word, still know the best angle to break that nose again---”

“Cold feet? Nah, back to smokin’ hot. I’ve never been more ready. ”– Franky’s eyes shot up with newfound determination, as she raised a victorious fist in the air, finally realizing…. _something_.  

“I love Gidge more than I love myself, Red. And you know how much I love myself.”

Bea swooned just a little – maybe her best friend’s love for Bridget was endearing, after all. It made up for the other fifty wrong things about her… _partially._

“You got this.”

And maybe it was those appreciative thoughts that made her give Franky a weak side hug and a thumbs-up sign. Both seemed to have given the bride that final push she needed.

“Thanks, _grouchy with feelings_. So do you, by the way.” – she winked with purpose, leaving a stunned Bea to pick her jaw off the passenger’s seat. She was just about to shoot a _“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”_ but _Speedy Gonzales_ already flew out the car.

By the time she got her last functional brain cells together again, Franky was already in the driveway. She caught up to her just as she was circling around the back.

Franky and Bridget’s mansion was… _huge_ , to say the least. Bea’s been here a lot but the sheer size and grandeur of it never ceased to amaze her. The reasoning was endearing – Franky never had any of that growing up. And, once she made a name for herself and started earning her fair share of the world, she didn’t hesitate. She bought the largest house (or palace, as she liked to call it) that she could get her hands on, as close to the beach as possible..practically a few meters away from the shore. Because it was also where she met the love of her life. It was where she, as she lovingly stated, realized she didn’t want to just get in Bridget’s pants, but her heart, too.

It was also precisely why they both wanted to have an unconventional wedding, no empty venue that didn’t mean anything to them where a million couples said yes before…no, this felt like the right place, back where it all started.

And the moment Franky envisioned would happen right out the back, close to the sea. It would be an utmost surprise to Bridget because she wouldn’t suspect a thing, she would be brought through the front entrance by the rest of her minions. That, and Allie’s surprise would, of course, be carefully hidden. She wasn’t just stealthy as a ninja herself, she had fantastic hiding skills…for the _most_ part.

As Bea trailed after Franky like the lost, awkward puppy she was, she took note of this beautiful floral corridor extending from her feet down to just a few meters away from the waves. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a few people setting up even more floral arrangements, chairs, decorations and lights. Their faces looked vaguely familiar – she might have seen them before. She didn’t care enough to remember any details.

Because her eyes were immediately drawn to the elegant curve of someone’s back and the gentle golden waves sprawled all over it – she vaguely saw the contours of a pair of headphones on the person’s ear, who was now coordinating the entire team with practiced gestures and professionalism. She could recognize those particular mannerisms anywhere.

Bea could have sworn she stopped breathing.

“How are we on the white roses inside? Alright, great job, thanks guys. Jane – arch stays covered until I give you the cue, alright? Thanks, you’re an angel, so good to have you back. Oh and tell Alex to time the rose petals perfectly, he has one job or I’m gonna need his ass on a spike, he’s already on strike three or I fire him—“

_Who the fuck is Jane?_

Unsurprisingly, that was all Bea got from the blonde’s monologue. Who still had her back on her and whose mannerisms switched dramatically to animated, even comedic in nature. She could single those out from the other side of the planet, too.

“Oiii, blondie.”

Allie turned on her heel, elegantly, flashing a bright, courteous smile, recognizing the bride’s enthusiastic voice anywhere.

Bea followed every move of Allie’s frame like a magnet. And when the quirky blonde turned around, Bea’s jaw dropped to the floor, made a dent in it, then fell even lower, reaching every single hidden floor below of any and all dimensions known to man. She froze in place, as her mouth fell open in a faint gasp. She swallowed hard as her heart rate picked up, but whatever she had stuck in there wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe because her throat was now drier than sandpaper.

Allie was wearing a form fitting navy blue lace dress…actually it wasn’t form-fitting, scratch that. It was _tight_. It wasn’t like she hasn’t noticed Allie had a nice figure before, bit on the thinner side but still filled out in all the right places. It was sheer coincidence that she was noticing those…ahem… _places_ even more now.

Not her fault those hips she had a habit of…looking at…casually…for _reasons_ …stood out at this particular point in time. And that neckline…was just a standard neckline…not fascinating or anything. So was that petite, catwalk model waist. She was not staring. Allie just looked _nice_. And she happened to have a pair of functional eyes, that’s it.

_Hips don’t lie, eh Red?_

At this point, she did not know which Franky was speaking to her. So, she settled for keeping her mouth shut…least figuratively-speaking. It wasn’t like she suddenly lost the ability to form coherent words, too.

“Hey, drooly…might wanna close that mouth of yours or it’ll turn into a fly trap.”

This time she heard the real Franky’s teasing even clearer because it came completed by a physical touch to her chin. The bride was doing the job herself.

“Would the bride like to wear red…?” – Bea glared back, before fixing her hair anxiously and turning her gaze back on Allie, ignoring Franky’s all-knowing one on her.

“Nice pun, _Brooke Davis_. I always enjoy that particular shade, just not today. I’m getting hitched, killjoy, not even you can ruin that for me—“

Allie only took her headphones off now, blissfully missing the pair’s previous conversation. As she began to walk closer, her eyes fully settled on Bea, too, more like scanned her from head to toe. Turns out, the redhead’s previously fallen jaw had company now. They were both partying somewhere in the seventh dimension.

_Holy shit…_

So…those legs look very… _leggy._

_Look up, dumbass, look up._

Cleavage? What cleavage? Her eyes just turned two shades darker because they were admiring that…discreet silver necklace on Bea’s neck. Because she was interested in fashion. She’d have to ask her where she got it from but….what are words?

_Not there, perv._

_Neutral things, think neutral things._

That’s an interesting…arm. Toned too...were _other_ parts of Bea just as toned? Allie needed to know because she was looking for a gym buddy to…work out with.

_Your other brain, useless, use it._

Tan skin? Pffft…everyone has….skin. Nothing special. We’d all be burned by the sun without it. Exposed shoulder? What shoulder? Shoulders aren’t even sexy, they’re neutral. The most neutral part of a person. Hers looked nice…

_White roses, there’s white roses here---_

_Flowers, that’s it, flowers…_

_Flowers all over her…_

Maybe fly Allie could help her not-so-professional thoughts right now. Where was that useless buzzing idiot anyway? A fly convention? She needed assistance. Right _now._

With seemingly no help arriving, Allie was forced to take matters into her own hands - and not in Franky’s understanding of the expression. She stared back up, finally meeting Bea’s eyes with superhuman efforts. She rubbed the back of her neck with one very sweaty hand, crossing one of her legs over the other, before smiling sheepishly, as every inch of her skin rapidly caught fire.

“Wow..uh…you  look…wow. “

“You too.”

The bride was already having the wedding of her life.

Remember Franky identifying 3 types of tension about her current companions last time? Right now, she could pinpoint at least a dozen. And her senses never failed. There were sparks and fireworks flying everywhere and they weren’t coming from her. Now she was _really_ salty about it. She just needed Bridget to bring the heat too. These oblivious, charged morons had nothing on her and soon to be Mrs. Doyle Westfall.

“The bride looks dashing, too. “ – Allie cleared her throat (sidenote – it did _not_ clear her head), before turning to Franky and bowing in mock appreciation. “Magician vibes all over ya. Where’s the rabbit?”

Bea laughed angelically, adding _“heart”_ on the list of things…throbbing in Allie’s body right now.

Franky’s smile could have spread over the entire Arctic Ocean – was this the same unimpressed asshole who hasn’t _genuinely_ laughed at anything since the Mezozoic Era? Unbelievable.

_So she thinks she’s funny too, huh? Interesting._

“You’d never rock this suit _, Fashion_ _Weak_ …guess the spelling.” – Franky countered, arrogantly, making a thumbs down sign with her hand. “Too late to put a ring on me, blondie…just gotta join Red and cry in your fists now. She was inconsolable this morning. That’s why we were _fashionably_ late…get it? Something else ya don’t know anythin’ bout--”

“We are both in mourning, isn’t it obvious?” – Allie added, briefly turning to Bea, before facing the bride again.

When that same Bea realized she did not hear a word of what Allie just said…because all she did was see her lips moving…because she was staring at them, she felt like the entire world crashed on her shoulders. Or maybe, just maybe, she was finally brought down to Earth – violently, with a loud bang. Suddenly, she would have given anything to be anywhere _but_ here.

Her face fell and everything about her switched dramatically into gloom and doom territory. How could she let a _meaningless_ , _random_ dream get to her so much? She made a mental note to lock it away and throw the key to the other side of the world – it never happened. And _that_ marked the much needed end of her confusion.

It was nothing. It meant nothing.

She had to stop – today was going to be torturous enough even without her making things weird with Allie, who she recently learned was someone she cared about.

That same Allie might have been fully engrossed in her conversation with Franky but she was still in touch with Bea’s every emotion - she didn’t need to hear her thoughts, she _felt_ everything about her changing.

For Allie, the questioning had ended a while back. Today was the beginning of her moment of truth. She was casting subtle, concerned looks in Bea’s direction, despite still talking to Franky, looks the former couldn’t be bothered to catch. She was too busy staring at the sand below her feet.

Unlike the blonde, she was just making herself comfortable in the _“denial”_ phase.

“So, hit me, flower of witty, how’s everything?”

“R-right, everything’s set up inside. So is the floral arch here. It’s covered but I can give you a glimpse if you play nice. Now, as you can see, there’s a floral corridor all over the sand because I loved your cheesy idea but I took it further…”

“Really, cheesier than that?” – Bea quipped, sarcastically.

“The whole cheese factory, ladies.” – Allie answered back, proudly, with half the joy and cheer her voice usually carried. “When the band starts playing your song, there’s gonna be rose petals falling all over you two, like a movie.”

“Wow, blondie, you’re really a master of your craft, aren’t ya?” – Franky gushed, appreciatively. “What other crafts do you know..?”

“Do you want a black eye on your wedding day? Because _that’s_ how you get a black eye on your wedding day.”

As always, not even the 50 shades of distracted Bea was sporting were powerful enough to keep her from snapping at Franky again. It was just a natural impulse. So was Allie’s impulse to gently touch her elbow – because she wanted to stop her from committing murder on this sacred, joyous occasion, of course.

And when Bea froze, tensed up then relaxed, all in one millisecond, Franky’s eyes grew ten meters in size, nearly bulging out of her sockets.

“Wow again, blondie. No one calmed down _Mount Vesuvius_ this fast. You really are a miracle worker, aren’t ya?”

“Hardly..”

“Did you find the reset button on her? Between you and me, been looking for that for ages—“

Bea’s steely glare was enough to shut Franky up – for once.

“Anyways, Franky, I remembered what you said, about your journey with Bridget from who you were to who you are…so..I know you don’t give a shit about flowers but you might wanna listen to this cuz I wanna hear your opinion, right..” – Allie explained, fumbling with the sleeves of her dress, nervously.

“Hit me.”

“Now, the arch is placed exactly where you told me you and Bridget met and, among other flowers I don’t have time to explain the meaning of, you’ll see calla lilies, because they signify beauty and innocence… the early stages of your love for her, right? So when you walk through it, symbolically you’ll be crossing from that to something more – who you were to who you are. Which leads us to…the floral corridor starting here and leading back to the house.” – she pointed to it with a shaky hand. “Which is made up entirely of white roses because they’re associated with new beginnings. It represents you two moving from that place to a promise of forever which is what marriage is, um…essentially..” – Allie cleared her throat, her nerves even more pronounced now. “All the while, more white rose petals will fall on you two and, at the end, Jane, my assistant is going to give you a single red rose to give to Bridget which is—“

“The universal language of love…”

Allie looked away, shyly, just in time to match the bride’s intervention.

Bea finally registered… _something._

Allie gave _her_ a single red rose the second time they talked. But she couldn’t…couldn’t have meant anything like that, could she? No, she and Allie were still _strangers_ then. Allie must’ve given her a nice parting gift because that’s just the kind of person she is.

She tried to silence that nagging, all-knowing, perceptive side of her screaming – Allie is also a florist.  Flowers are special to her. Flowers are _never_ random to her.

But since Franky said it and not her…she settled for assuming the bride did not know shit about flowers.

“It’s so freaking poetic, goldilocks, I love it. Nice touch with the lights too cuz our moment will happen later in the evening and it’s like saying our love lights up the whole place. I know symbolism, I gots da smarts, too, mmm’kay? And don’t look so surprised, blondie, I know my flowers too now, I learned _just_ for you—“

By the time she heard Franky’s previous words, it was too late to chew her ear out. Still the ever-so-perceptive one, her best friend immediately caught up on it.

“Really, Red, no comeback? No protecting your cherished plus-one from the Doyle?”

“What..?”

“Yo, Red, if you doze off on me again on my special day I’m—“

“Sorry, Franky..”

“Least ya learned your apologies.” – Franky replied, dusting her tux for the hundredth time. “Toodles, got guests to welcome. “ – she added, waving like a captain on a ship, before biting her bottom lip suggestively and wiggling her eyebrows. “Feel free to…mingle, you two.”

“You alright, Bea?” – Allie asked, gently, as soon as the bride left, refraining from any physical touch this time.

“Yeah..I’m fine. “ – Bea muttered quietly, still only halfway meeting her eyes. “So…this is impressive.” – she added, turning on her heel and gesturing vaguely at….everything in sight.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“I knew you could pull it off.”

“I honestly didn’t, least not on _this_ monster schedule. But I um…wanted them to have this…‘cause they love each other, they deserve it, y’know?”

_So do you._

And the fact that she still didn’t believe she deserved even a tenth of this but would go to such lengths to give it to literally _anyone else_ struck Bea with this physical _ache_ in her chest. Not only could she not look on a regular day, right now it _physically_ hurt her to try.

 “…to give them what I…what..”

_What I wish I could give you someday, too._

_What no one ever gave me._

“Never mind.”

Bea really wanted to know what Allie didn’t say…but it wasn’t her place to push. Instead, she voiced something else…in the _“not even close”_ manner…as always.

“Hey, Allie..?”

_You look beautiful._

“Hair looks good.”

“Oh, thanks, I got a good hairdresser.”

_You’re taking my breath away._

“You know, Bea…” – Allie trailed off, switching to her jolly…persona, in spite of herself. “Franky was right. “

_…..about the red rose?_

“That’s a scary sentence.”

“No, I mean…you know, your nickname?”

“What about it?”

“Red’s your color. Looks nice on ya, makes your eyes pop.”

_Just say “you look beautiful”, Novak, it’s not that hard. It’s 3 words you fucking tongue-tied idiot---_

Bea looked down to her heels, blushing faintly.

“So what, you’re into fashion and colors now, too?”

_I’m into you._

“I happen to watch everything ever made, Bea.” – Allie huffed her chest, proudly, celebrating her…major achievements in life. And Bea did not just see that move in slow motion because she was still not staring. “Cooking shows, documentaries, series finales and re-runs ‘case I didn’t cry hard enough the first time, do-it-yourself shows cuz I’m handy like that and, last but not least, fashion. ‘Cuz I like to be put together, you kinda have to distract people when you have _this_ face to carry around witcha—“

Same face Bea was not studying curiously with discreet intrigue and awe like the world’s most exquisite piece of art. Now that she was standing closer to her, she wasn’t also taking note of Allie’s blue eye-shadow making her eyes pop, too. Or that light in them almost blinding her now because the blonde was rambling passionately…again.

Her heart’s thing wasn’t _particularly_ thingy at the moment of speaking, either. For the record, she did not have arrhythmia – she had that checked out.

“So you did prepare a speech… _Shakespeare_.” – she teased and, when that spark from before settled on her, she saw no change. If anything, it seemed to shine even brighter.

“I will not admit to anything.”

She had to look away.

“Still not too late to back out, Bea.” – Allie announced, only halfway joking. Bea sensed her insecurity right off the bat. “Just say the word and I’ll annoy literally anyone else.”

“Oh really, like who?”

“Some of your…other friends? I’m ready to make the worst impression---“

_Like you could ever._

“I brought flash cards just for the occasion---“

“I have 10 bullet points, Bea—“

“I can get myself kicked out of weddings, too, listen, it’s another skill of mine--”

Bea laughed sincerely, unconsciously leaning into her side, then touching her waist to steer the rambling idiot’s body the opposite way. Because she sensed that Allie was also _nervous_ to meet everyone. She just wanted to reassure her.

“Come on.”

When she realized what she did, she pulled her hand back like she just dipped it in acid.

Allie saw. She assumed an entirely wrong reason… _again_. She had noticed Bea acting weird around her since that day at her house. She thought she cleared the air yesterday but maybe she didn’t. A small part of her broke right there – it wasn’t what she wanted her to see and the fact that she had seemed to have changed everything between them. Maybe Bea was just…grossed out by _everything_ about her now.

“You have the chance to show off that skill. They’re probably here by now.”

But it wasn’t the time or place to dwell on any of that.

_Weddings aren’t easy for her, okay?_

Because she was on a mission – be the best plus-one in the world. Not even the sound of her heart breaking with every moment Bea hesitated to meet her eyes or shied away from her touch could steer her off that path.

She wanted to make at least _one_ wedding better for her.

And when Franky introduced Allie to everyone, Bea silently encouraged her from the sidelines. Because it was all she knew how to do.

 _She_ wasn’t good with words, either.

She had no clue it would come back to haunt her.

Unsurprisingly, her friends warmed up to the blonde almost straightaway. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest.

Because who _wouldn’t_ love Allie?

_Hey, it’s your pal in you head just…pal-ing ‘round, here to deliver common sense to your stupid ass monkey brain. Why did ya just think that, Red? Sure you weren’t talking about yourself?_

That scratchy tone in her head that she _still_ couldn’t drown even if she rained the entire Amazon on it was thankfully replaced by a different, more pleasant voice – Maxine whispering the words “ _So this is who you’ve been hiding from us, Bea? She’s lovely.”_ to a fidgety redhead’s ear.

Boomer followed suit - she was the first to already get into deep, philosophical analysis of television with her. By the end of a long, drawn out discussion, her verdict was even more definitive: _“I dig her. Blondie gotta hang out with us more, eh.”_

When Bridget arrived, Bea welcomed the much needed distraction – making sure her best friend didn’t fall all over herself by putting her fallen jaw back to its original, pristine condition. She’s never seen Franky get like that around anyone – if she wasn’t afraid the stunned brunette would legit pass out, she’d crack a smile at the sight.

Fortunately, after an aggressive, whispered _“Pull your shit together or you’ll marry yourself and divorce a minute after because not even you can handle that mess.”_ in her ear, Franky settled. It also helped that, as soon as Bridget sat down, she held her hand close, whispering another _“I can’t wait to be your wife.”_ in her ear.

All along, Bea failed to see all the hidden meanings in a specific someone’s gaze, who was, for the most part, only looking at her like the entire room magically emptied. More accurately, staring at the brides with stifled tears lingering in endless pools of blue, then back to her. Allie had longing and heartache written all over her. Maxine noticed – because she was just as perceptive as Franky. She almost wanted to hug the blonde but resorted to an empathetic _“You alright, Allie?”_ instead.

Of course, she said yes, completed by her perfect, practiced smile. Maxine didn’t seem convinced. But she was considerate enough to let it go.

For at least an hour, guests kept coming, filling every space with laughter and light conversation. The brides retreated from the table to welcome each and every one of them personally – because they didn’t want to have a standard wedding, they wanted everyone to feel part of the family. That meant there were a lot of instances where there was only Bea, her friends and… _Allie_ to fill the quiet.

_Why ya singling her out in your dumb head, Red? She not your friend, too?_

For once, Bea had no comeback. Voice-over Franky happened to have a point…a very frightening one.

All throughout, every single person at the table refrained from any teasing, despite everyone with common sense within a ten mile radius sensing this electric energy and radiant tension between two particular women. Maybe insane chemistry too – they either bickered like children or finished each other’s sentences, even cracking one or two internal jokes, at one point laughing like they were in their own safe bubble, away from the world. Allie was talking about her favorite show and explaining the plot with nerdy, animated hand gestures and Bea may or may not have looked at her like she was an angel sent from above. Again, Maxine noticed – but she kept quiet, merely smiling to herself.

Mainly because Franky established a no teasing policy for Bea on this fine, blessed day - she gave everyone a speech beforehand – today was about to be hard enough for her best friend even without _that_ on top. The bride herself was the only one who had a pass on dirty jokes or innuendos…because she was the bride.

She kept it rather light, for her standards, only shot a casual _“You really like Netflix and chill, don’t ya, blondie?”_ when Allie gushed on about some other show with Boomer and a _“My best friend looks dashing this evening, wouldn’t you agree, blondie?”_ leaving the two idiots fumbling uncomfortably with their hands on their lap. Allie barely let out a rushed, tender _“Yeah, she really does….she uh…she looks nice.”,_ cursing herself for using the most basic, meaningless word known to man.

It’s what you say about a sub-par, mediocre movie someone recommends not to hurt their feelings. It’s what you say about a light summer shower after a hot day. It’s not how you describe someone like her.

What she really wanted to say was… _”beautiful”, “amazing”, “stunning”, "breathtaking”,_ any of the above would have sufficed. But she simply… _choked_. She wasn’t good with words on a regular day – today it seemed like all the right ones were stubbornly evading her.

Least no one at the table seemed to catch onto her inner struggle, they just voiced their agreement, leaving a self-conscious Bea to look down, bashfully, still not knowing how to take a compliment.

She did look amazing. But she didn’t quite feel like it.

And, this time, Allie suspected that she wasn’t entirely at fault, that there was something _else_ there. Because she saw Bea spacing out in conversations, staring at the floral arrangements she brought, the table designs, even the members of the band, like she was going somewhere far away from here. And it had to be somewhere that _hurt_. With all the strength Allie had, she grabbed her hand underneath the table while everyone else was engrossed in another conversation, gave it a light squeeze and let go.

It was her way of saying _“I’m here.”…_ without _actually_ saying it.

Bea didn’t say a word either.

But seeing Allie get along so well with her friends, scratch that - her _family_ , the most important people in her life, laughing along and bonding with them made her realize one thing, which was harder to stand than anything else about today.

Allie looked like she belonged there.

With everyone.

That included _her_ , too.

Allie belonged with her.

Bea needed a drink. More like twenty.

Franky saw her spring out of her chair to get one…

_There we go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Voice-over Franky, because a lot of you talked about that (copy-paste from my reply to a commenter below, I feel like this needs to stay here for everyone)
> 
> Whether you love voice-over Franky or hate her...she is a character in and of itself and I really want everyone to see it as such. She has a very clear, well-defined role in the story, too. Voice-over Franky is, aside from comic relief and a plot device, what I also like to call an expression of Bea's more...awake side, as well as a convenient excuse to fuel her endless denial. You see, it's very easy for Bea to think stuff like "I don't feel that way about Allie, Franky's just...been in my head since I met her."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No witty comment here...for once. I kept overthinking this chapter until I didn't. So here we are. :)
> 
> P.S. Franky and Bridget's song is really a #Ballie anthem, I promise you. And if this was a movie, you'd hear it playing while everything happens. Deserves an audition:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHnE3h1jc_w

What most people didn’t know about Bea and probably wouldn’t even suspect at first glance was that she had one of the highest levels of tolerance to alcohol. Much like Allie, she, too had her share of bizarre, yet equally impressive skills – drinking and.... _rarely_ getting drunk was one of them. Least not in the real sense. Getting tipsy? Maybe – with superhuman efforts. Intoxicated to the point of slurring her words and falling over backwards? Never, not even if she tried.

On the day they met and, in true perceptive fashion, Franky described Bea’s entire personality in a single wise, all-encompassing sentence - _„You live too much in your own head.”_ And maybe that was part of the explanation – her loud, intricate brain didn’t respond readily or easily to any stimulant.

It tended to get infuriating for that same Franky when they had their casual drink-offs and the brunette ended up passing out, coming onto her or telling embarrassing stories because she was off her face...while Bea only got maybe a little less tongue-tied than usual, still walking a straight line after 10 drinks with no difficulty whatsoever.

The fact that the bride insisted on serving rather mild drinks (by Bea’s assessment) because she was protective of her best friend and also did not want an excessively happy crowd quite literally throwing up all over her special event did not help Bea’s current situation at all.

That still didn’t mean she wasn’t about to try her _goddamn_ hardest to get drunk. And fast. She was no quitter. If her flawless track record taught her anything, it was that she was a fighter...in all understandings of the word.

But she was fighting so many different, clashing battles all at once today she feared not even Australia’s entire supply of alcohol would make a difference.

Allie’s questioning, meaningful, almost pleading eyes peering into her own for a split-second, on the other hand, could’ve.

Because they were unraveling her inside like nothing else ever had.

Because all they were offering was silent support, concern and compassion.

Nothing more, nothing less. Least that was what Bea saw, what she could decipher herself.

The touching display of _everything_ flashing across those stirringly honest blue orbs all at once in explosive, yet harmonious, lulling motions almost derailed her off her mission. Allie’s rhythm hopelessly called out to her, as did every flicker of her empathetic gaze following hers with practiced grace and gentleness, _still_ asking for permission, even now.

Bea was _so_ close to taking a step back and resuming her spot. The stranded, barely afloat, painfully awake part of her even visualized it, down to the last detail, down to her own lips finally opening and speaking to her, down to her own body inching closer to Allie, holding her close, allowing her healing touch to fix everything...fix _her._

_If you decide to leave, it won’t matter to me, you’ve already done enough, Bea. I mean it. Thank you for fixing me._

She was wrong then. It was the other way around. Always has been. Allie didn’t need fixing because there was nothing about her that needed to be tweaked, altered or, least of all, erased...From Bea’s side of things, there could never be anything wrong about Allie.

Allie didn’t need fixing because Allie wasn’t broken.

She, on the other hand, was.

And she was starting to suspect that same Allie was the only person in the world who knew how to fix her. In the real sense this time around.

But she couldn’t let her. It wasn’t fair.

And because of that, she couldn’t turn back, either.

Because it would mean she’d sit back down next to one of her battles...perhaps the hardest one to fight. Because, unlike the others, she had no tools to see this one through, no right weapons to choose, no strategy, not even a plan. Because, unlike the others, she _never_ saw this one coming.

The only logical solution was to pretend it didn’t even exist, bury it six feet under and throw away the key.

While Allie had no fight left in her, Bea was nowhere near surrendering.

Which was why she needed to at least _try._

Try to pretend this wasn’t her turning point and she was making a run for it. Try to forget, force that indistinct, unbearable chatter in her brain to quiet down, for a millisecond if nothing else. She’d take even that with open arms. It’s never been louder than now in 35 years of existence and the chaotic buzzing in her ears was starting to make her dizzy.

She wasted no time getting a head start.

Allie noticed.

Franky noticed.

Neither said a thing but they shared quiet acknowledgement and back-and-forth questions and answers – the brunette’s stern, almost threatening look was a nonverbal cue for Allie, a warning not to interfere, least not for the time being, instead stay put and let it happen, which was a much harder order to follow for the blonde than the bride would ever know.

Allie tried, she protested nonverbally all the same but she also had a dreaded feeling that it wasn’t her place to try and stop her.

No matter how much she _ached_ to get up from that seat and follow her...

No matter how much she _ached_ to talk to Bea alone, comfort her some other way..

She had no right.

And Allie also suspected Bea wouldn’t let her. Not in her current state.

Still didn’t mean that the flower girl wasn’t worried sick about her. Still didn’t mean that whatever _ache_ Bea had, she wasn’t feeling it herself, down to her core, shaking and tearing through every barely put together piece of her own wounded soul. She hasn’t known Bea for too long but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was a private, closed-off person who didn’t like to lean on other people.

Allie would have done _anything_ for Bea to lean on her.

To come to _her_ ….of everyone else.

She didn’t.

Instead, she put up a mask Allie recognized better than anyone else – half smiles, absent replies in conversations, sincere laughter…to the entire world _but_ Allie, who saw the concealed strain that came along with every sound…all between more drinks and casual dancing with the group….and _her_ , too.

From Allie’s fractured vantage point, Bea’s eyes were as beautiful and expressive as always, still drawing her in like a moth to a flame…but they were also haunted, faraway now, devoid of light, but not of meaning. And maybe Allie knew what flickering lights fading into darkness looked like and meant better than anyone else…because she’s just seen _her_ light do the same.

_I’m not that memorable…_

_(Dream date?) Sorry, I just…I don’t know._

_Fairytales aren’t real, Allie._

_(How’d you make them go away?) What makes you think they have?_

_(I want you to know that it meant a lot to me.) I didn’t…do anything, Allie._

It wasn’t the first time.

She would have given anything to have the nerve to draw her own body nearer, inch closer to her as everyone danced together, hold her tight, at least _ask_ her what was wrong.

She didn’t. Not the way she intended, anyway. Not with words.

Her eyes, on the other hand, were silently pleading for the truth, begging for entrance.

But Bea didn’t know, _couldn’t_ know. Not anymore.

Because she wasn’t looking.

Tonight there was a very different type of dancing going on between them…they were dancing around each other, tip-toeing even. And despite always making the first move, Allie couldn’t take the next step or the metaphorical plunge now.

She had no right to do that, either.

She did, however, hold on to one particular exchange as they danced together…

“Wow, you really know how to step on a girl’s toes, don’t ya? Lemme guess, another skill of yours?”

Allie _was_ a skilled person in most areas of life – dancing just didn’t make the cut. She stepped back, apologetically, running a hand down the back of her neck, just now realizing what she did.

“Sorry…I usually keep _them_ on their toes…”

Bea merely rolled her eyes, not buying a single word…

“Sure..”

Apparently…

Because that small, unguarded part of her, so quiet in its manifestation that wasn’t perpetually stuck in denial land just realized something – shy and nervous were her favorite shades of Allie.

Just like the rest of her, she didn’t deserve either.

“The ladies love me, a’right, they even have a fanclub, it’s called _Novak-ed_ , T-shirts included..”

“Sure you didn’t make those yourself?”

“I’ll have you know I am a very charming person, _nonbeliever_ \---“

“Do you drive them to the hospital after you break their toes? That part of the charm, too?”

“Course I do. I’m a package deal. That’s why I got my license in the first place.”

“License to kill?”

"Still not planning on killing you tonight, Bea, you can relax. It’ll be when you least expect it.”

Allie held onto everything about this moment.

Because she saw a fleeting trace of a real smile on Bea’s face that seemed to reach her soulful, troubled eyes, eventually.

And _she_ brought it on.

However, it didn’t seem to last longer than it takes for the sun to set on the morning sky and bring forth color and life by drowning the remains of the night before. This time around, the night seemed to stretch on endlessly, engulfing her in a cloak of darkness and hurt that never once belonged on someone like her.

Bea had to be the least worthy person in the world to feel all of that, to carry all of that concealed anguish all at once, if you asked Allie.

She didn’t seem eager to share the weight with anyone.

The reason why was even more transparent and soul-crushing to Allie – Bea didn’t think she deserved to ask for help, either. Or maybe she was too stubborn to admit she needed it, needed someone.

Same Allie who was starting to fear, with each passing minute stretching into hours that not even her limited light would be enough to chase away her demons, not this time around – the mere thought scared her more than anything else.

Because all she wanted was to be a source of joy in her. Much like Bea had been for her since the first moment they locked eyes across the room and really…. _looked._

_Hey, rough morning?_

_Believe it or not, you’re the best part of it._

All she wanted was to return the favor.

She didn’t get a chance to.

Because soon enough, without as much as a warning, she lost her in the crowd again. Franky literally swept her off her feet with a contagious rush of energy, knowing she would have never brought Bea to the ring in the first place…if it wasn’t for a particular someone asking gently, courteously even, extending a hesitant arm in an exaggerated gentleman move, flashing her a shy, brilliant smile that could have left Bea’s knees in an even worse state than they already have been all day.

Franky couldn’t pass on the momentous occasion. And Bea did reluctantly reciprocate, eventually matching the bride’s energy and enthusiasm – she played the part well to the entire world, maybe even her best friend by this point, who seemed overjoyed and relaxed, too relaxed to see the subtle cracks still showing…

Allie saw. _Only_ Allie saw underneath in a way no one else could.

Because it felt like looking into a mirror.

She was so focused on her and dear Lord if that didn’t make her notice _everything_ …from the smallest drop in her shoulders to the subtlest wetness in her eyes that told a million stories, each more crushingly unfair than the previous one.

Those changes in Bea, more and more glaringly visible by the hour, couldn’t be brought on solely by the magic and emotion of the event, slipping into every corner, couldn’t be brought by all the couples dancing in pure bliss all around them, spreading even more love and joy on every space they touched, creating a blinding, crushing contrast.

There was something _else_ there, it had to be.

Allie’s heart was a warzone now and it took every ounce of strength and self-control she possessed to stay true to her mission…but she didn’t know what a good plus-one was supposed to do in a situation like this - tag along, try to force her out of her funk or give her some much needed space. Allie was torn. For the most part, she did stay by Bea’s side, maintained a respectable distance when she saw her going _somewhere_ again, cracked some light jokes Bea did seem to laugh genuinely at, as opposed to Franky’s that only received the standard eye-rolls and glares.

For the whole event, Bea still only halfway met her eyes.

She didn’t seem to do that with _anyone else_.

Allie had to wonder if she did anything wrong.

And if her heart wasn’t already even more torn than she was, that fact alone would have ripped it to shreds. Because all she wanted was for her to gaze right back and at least _see_ what Allie couldn’t say with words.

She couldn’t get her to. Not for longer than a few seconds at a time.

But it wasn’t even that part which destroyed Allie the most – it was that she didn’t know what was hurting Bea. She ached for her to know she wasn’t alone, that someone cared…in a way no one else ever has.

Because all she wanted was to take her pain away.

Because Bea’s pain was…. _her_ pain.

It all seemed to come to a screeching halt in the evening, by the time Franky and Bridget’s moment rolled around. The latter was quite literally and figuratively swept off her feet when an all-knowing Maxine and a cheerful Boomer escorted her to an awaiting Franky.

Maxine was covering her eyes and stifling a giggle, as the eager crowd occupied its intended positions in almost perfect sync. The lights outside shone gently from the floral arch down to the ground, giving every speck of sand they fell upon a heavenly, ethereal glow, closely rivaling the sparkle of the dotted evening sky above, another privileged witness to what was to come.

But no beacon of light in sight had anything on the glow the two brides wore now.

Because, when Bridget opened her eyes, letting out a faint gasp at this breathtaking, surreal view before her, from the chairs arranged in faultless geometry for every guest to experience the emotion of the moment alongside them to the vibrant symphony of colors created by the flowers and the decorations, communicating even more, the already electric energy only elevated now.

There was nothing but sheer, unadulterated love filling every space now. And every guest seemed to feel it dancing in the very air they breathed.

And when Bridget looked at Franky like they were meeting again for the first time, the latter realized something else – life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

And Allie was the only one who knew what the bride was thinking.

Franky was about to throw the original plan. Or maybe, just maybe, get it right.

By this point, the overly enthusiastic cheers and whistles from the crowd had settled into quiet marvel, replaced by the soft, uplifting harmonies of _“Take me home”_ by Jess Glynne resonating in the air….their song. The atmosphere shifted again from charged to quiet, mellow and tender.

As the brides swayed graciously, matching each vibration with flawlessly coordinated movements, everything seemed to slow down, except the rhythm of four hearts, in unyielding sync with each other, following another pace, one only they knew.

Two of them were vibrating on the same wavelength….without even knowing it.

_Came to you with a broken faith_

_Gave me more than a hand to hold_

Because there were two other people aside from the brides who lived and breathed those lyrics now.  

_Caught before I hit the ground_

_Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now_

Bea had no clue she had tears in her eyes…but Allie noticed.

Because she was right next to her – so close, yet so far.

_Would you take the wheel_

_If I lose control?_

_If I'm lyin' here_

_Will you take me home?_

They were the only ones still standing up aside from the brides – the maid of honor and the flower girl. A tell for the ages. It felt like a movie waiting to happen. And Allie loved television.

She has for years, even before she was old enough to read the subtitles. She would still watch the moving pictures with a held breath and quiet wonder, holding on to every moment. On most days, it was her only escape from the world. It was her truth, her fleeting beauty alongside chaos, destruction, nonsense and tragedy.

Right now, she was discovering something else….another truth.

She loved _her._

It didn’t hit her like a freight train.

It didn’t fell like a crushing weight pulling her under.

This time, she _could_ breathe.

Because it didn’t hurt.

Everything else did.

And maybe that also meant she found her home, too, right here, right now…

When all she really had to call her own was a house. On most days, not even that.

The heart-stopping, breathtaking picture she could paint right now would put all the sequences she’s ever watched on a screen to shame. Because not even the cheesiest, most cliché television trope Allie knew could get close to what she was feeling right this moment, as her eyes shifted from the mesmerized brides just in time to catch a nonverbal signal from Franky that she didn’t even need…then back to Bea.

While the rest of the guests remained focused on the spectacle of flickering lights in front of them, engulfing everything in sight in a serene, divine quiet that drew you in, Allie was hopelessly lured in by something else entirely. She only had eyes for a much different view. And when Bea still only halfway faced her as their gazes connected for a split second in another unspoken game of more questions than answers, she realized something else.

Allie was looking at the rest of her life…too.

It was a fugitive, shattering, almost unbearably cruel glimpse of a future she just realized she wanted, even if she could never have it…like she never wanted anything _else._

But if that split second was all she’d get, she’d still treasure it forever.

She’d take anything Bea gave her tonight. And she’d give her everything she had in return.

Because tonight wasn’t about Allie.

It was about her. And she needed her to know.

“Hey, Bea..” – Allie leaned over, whispering in her ear over her shoulder, then gently touched the small of her back to draw her attention again. Because she was pretty sure this oblivious _…angel_ had no clue what Franky had in mind. The nickname _Cutie Ms. Clueless_ did fit her like a glove, after all.

“Ready to give your best friend away?”

“I was born ready but….” – Bea flashed her a look of confusion, prompting Allie to bite her bottom lip. She was trying to muffle the giggle tugging at her lips because she couldn't ruin the magic of the moment… _both_ moments. “It’s not time for that yet---“

“With the way she’s looking at Bridget now, she uh…she….” – the blonde trailed off, choking and swallowing hard, her eyes turning wetter unannounced. Bea graciously missed the double meaning of her words…for far too many times now. “It’s happening. Right here, right now, believe me.”

“Are you a psychic or something---“

“Do you trust me?” – Allie asked, hopefully and tenderly, her voice dropping lower, no louder than a charged, loaded whisper now. Despite the music still playing in the background, the soft echo of her words still managed to resonate louder, linger heavier in the air between them than anything else.

Because what she was really saying was…

_I love you._

And the previous image still stuck in Allie’s brain was unconsciously urging her on now. Before she could pull herself from her own trance, she was already moving out of instinct and maybe a touch of fear, too….fear of her slipping away for good. Allie’s hypnotized eyes traveled from Bea’s gentler waves down to her lips on their own accord…then shifted back up. And it wasn’t long before she was reaching out to Bea…in more ways than one.

With shaky, hesitant movements, Allie lifted her arm up to tuck away a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Her fingers brushed against her cheek in a soft caress a little too long for it to be a casual gesture…

She wanted to pull herself away from her. She knew she should. She had all the reasons in the world to turn around and walk away right now. She should have done it a long time ago, back when _she_ passed her turning point.

_No snakes. Cross my heart._

She didn’t _._ No muscle reacted.

“Not a trick question…”

And _something_ about that seemed to freeze Bea in place all the same, make her unable to step back either, subdued by the strong shiver passing from the flower girl’s touch down to her feet, making her knees weak again. For the first time tonight, Allie saw every swirl of tortured brown clearly. And among the soulful, revealing shades still holding subtle streaks of pain and torment she always assumed Bea had because she recognized them better than anyone, Allie saw something _else._

“I promise…”

But it had to be wishful thinking. It couldn’t be a flicker of…. _that_ she just saw flashing across Bea’s eyes before her guard came up again, perhaps stronger, mightier than before. It couldn’t be the faintest trace of Bea gazing at her the same way _she_ was. It had to be all in Allie’s head. That same redhead did mention she had a vivid imagination….and she wasn’t wrong.

What Allie knew for sure, instead, was that, even if just for a moment, Bea wasn’t turning away from her or rejecting her touch. And the blonde was letting out a prolonged exhale like she’s just been restored the ability to breathe.

She would hold onto that, too.

“I do.”

_(Still need to work on your double meanings, Bea.)_

Same Bea who could have sworn she did not just say that out loud….and especially not using _those_ words. She fidgeted ever so slightly and looked down, as a faint blush dusted her cheeks.

Allie’s teasing smile and quiet, angelic chuckle meant for only her to hear like a privileged witness yet again could have taken her last breath away, if she hadn’t already lost it.

“N-not what I meant--“

The florist’s smile had transcended into a goofy grin that could have spread across the entire galaxy this time around. With a slight head shake, the thunderous storm raging in Allie’s eyes before scaled down into a calm, summer rain.

And when the blonde took her hand down, only to find Bea’s this time around, run calming circles on it then let go, she could have sworn Bea gave it the lightest squeeze back, chasing her all the same.

But she didn’t trust her appraisal of reality anymore.

 _That_ might have been all in her head, too.

“Let’s give them the fairytale.”

With that, Allie cast another longing look at her back before stepping aside and walking away. She quietly and subtly informed her team of the last-minute changes, while Bea shared unspoken agreement with Maxine and Boomer. The pair stood up to join her, almost on cue.

By now, the two brides were not as much swaying to the rhythm of their song as they were almost caressing each other, breathing in the last bars of it like every harmony was solely meant for them. Steadily, the tune was reaching its end. The last notes of the acoustic guitar transcended into a quiet background noise, then reverberated into silence, a silence that spoke volumes, connecting them like no other.

It was time for the real magic to start.

Franky _did_ happen to be dressed like a magician tonight - Allie wasn’t that far off.

And she planned on delivering…big time.

As her maid of honor reached her side, she knew with one look what was about to happen…and how. Bea’s never been more proud of Franky than in this moment. The feeling was mutual – because Franky knew, more than anyone else, how hard it was for her best friend to be here with her now.

But she was.

And even if Bea had a hard time finding her own voice tonight, she’d be the first to give it to Franky. She whispered a quiet _“You got this. You deserve this.”_ in her ear, before resuming her spot.

At last, the crowd put two and two together, letting out a collective gasp that gradually scaled down into awestruck silence. The flower petals started falling into a dazzling, hypnotizing dance, lingering in the air then engulfing the brides, the witnesses and the maid of honor in a white cloak of perfection.

Allie held her breath.

Because they were falling over _her_ ….too.

_Kinda look like you belong here, Bea, blend right in._

She looked like she belonged there, too.

Her heart skipped a beat….or maybe a dozen, then rose to her throat, thumping so loudly she could hear it in her ears.

Because Allie was no longer seeing the brides….she was seeing something else entirely. Akin to the earlier picture, this one was yet another cruel reminder…or maybe the tragic wake-up call she desperately needed.

This time, she had to turn away and look everywhere _but_ ahead.

That same heart settled into a different rhythm, as it dropped in her chest, clenching tightly. Allie blinked rapidly through freshly-formed tears, urging them to stay right there. She forbade them to fall. They didn’t. But for far too many times tonight, she swallowed hard - that painful knot stuck in her throat for hours now didn’t seem to go anywhere.

It still choked her words. It choked _her._

“When most people look at me, they see this hot ass chick with badass tattooes…’cause let’s be honest, I am…but they also see nothing else. No one expects someone like me to make it into the world or be anything other than the hot ass chick with the badass tattooes…But you, you always saw so much more than that, Gidge. You saw me the way no one else did. And, because of that, I wanted to become who you saw. Because that’s someone who deserves to be here, with you, today and for many years to come.”

Words like these. Words Allie yearned to give to _her,_ too.

Her flawless track record of failure, however, begged to differ. She fell short on this, too.

Because her lips had parted then closed far too many times to reveal…. _nothing._

“And three years ago, I sat with you in this exact same spot for hours, just… _talking_ , something I don’t do with a lot of people, as you all probably know.”

The crowd erupted into laughter while Franky let out a self-conscious, involuntary chuckle too. Messing up her vows wasn’t part of the plan, either. But oddly enough, she didn’t mind it tonight – because she also realized she did not want perfection or planning or rehearsing anymore.

All she wanted was to _speak now_ ….from the heart. Nothing else.

“And it just hit me - I could do that with her forever and we’d still have more to say…”

She wasn’t the only one.

Because Allie was seeing a different beach now, she was hearing a different conversation where she fell short. It was all she knew how to do.

_Thank you, again._

Not even close.

“I don’t know how I haven’t let you down yet ‘cuz, as any of our dearly beloved gathered here today can attest to, I’m fucking great at it…my best friend could probably write the Franky Fuck-Ups Encyclopedia--“

When the crowd reverberated in unison chuckle yet again, Bridget uttered a soft _“You could never let me down.”,_ meant just for Franky….one that Bea also caught, unintentionally…

Much like someone else’s mind, without as much as a warning, Bea’s took her further and further away from here, too, as it began replaying something else entirely. Her best friend’s honest, hazel eyes were replaced by the immensity of the ocean, hopelessly trapping her under every wave. And what she was hearing now was…

_You could never ruin anything for me._

Bea felt like she was drowning again.

“But loving you is the one thing I got right. I plan everything, you know that, baby…and if I got so far, I plan on never letting you down for the rest of our lives. That’s why I didn’t get the hat to go with all this and you know how much I love the hat. But I love _you_ more, Gidge.”

….and she was only jolted awake when Bridget started speaking her vows, too.

“You worked so hard to make everything perfect today, Franky…even if I tried to talk you out of it….because that’s who you are. You’re so…stubborn…But I know you only did this for me and I appreciate you even more for that…but really, all I wanted was to be your wife…and I know you’ve tried so hard because a part of you still doesn’t believe this is happening…but it is, Franky. You deserve it more than you know. You deserve everything and I want to give it to you. I could have married you in a shoebox.”

As a collective aww was heard from the crowd yet again, Franky’s eyes filled with tears. For once, she couldn’t be bothered to care if she ruined her make-up.

“And I knew you’d say that about the hat so….” – Bridget smiled, sending a playful wink in Maxine’s direction….who was now pulling a hidden hat like the magician she was too and placing it on top of Franky’s head, grinning all the way.

“I love you in it, I was just messing with you. I love you in anything.”

Bea did a double take on the spot along with everyone in sight….she was pretty sure _this_ was the first time she saw Franky get shy and self-conscious…in three years of knowing her. Maybe there was a first for everything.

Not a moment later, her best friend resumed her usual theatrical self like the switch never happened, followed by Allie’s assistant entering the scene, gracing her field of vision with a beautiful red rose.

“Well in that case…” – the sneaky brunette bit her lip, before getting up on one knee again, offering it to Bridget like a promise of….. _forever._ “I love you, too. Now and always.”  

All Bea heard was…

_One more thing….for you._

Because she was no longer seeing the brides, either…and what flashed across her eyes were two soulful, wistful pools of blue, peering into her heart, gently asking for entrance and nothing else. And _something_ just dawned on her, amongst the avalanche of taunting thoughts plaguing her mind all at once. Much like a velvet curtain revealing the stage before the final act of a play, everything from before was nothing but a slow-building crescendo leading up to…this moment.

Allie looked at her….the same way.

Why _would_ she?

“And I can’t wait for our new life together to start.”

No. This wasn’t…. _that._

It _couldn’t_ be.

The emotion of the moment, everyone’s voice in her head, her weird dream and everything torturous in between were still getting to her when she _swore_ she wouldn’t let them.

She _had_ to be twisting that memory around now.

Because no one would look at her that way.

No one _should_ look at her that way.

Especially not someone like Allie.

She shook her head to re-focus on the brides.

“Take it away, minister guy. I take her, she takes me, just get to the good part.”

“I now pronounce you--“

“Not that one, lil closer to the end..?”

“You may kiss the bride…?”

“There we go.”

While the brides sealed their promise to each other with a passionate kiss, the guests stood up, clapping and cheering loudly, as the rhythm of new chords from an entirely different symphony filled the air, signaling a novel, perhaps even better beginning…just like Allie envisioned. Same Allie whose gaze was now fixated on their journey through the arch, on the paved flower bed then back to the house, as the members of the band trailed right behind them.

The light in her azure orbs was dimmer now, akin to a glimmering candle. And even in her current state, Bea noticed. All she could do was swallow painfully and turn away – she couldn’t allow herself the headspace to ponder upon that, too. She was in no shape to be anything to Allie tonight but a crutch.

With every passing second, the moving frames they were both contemplating now turned into a blur. The guests faded away, alongside the after tone of the acoustic guitars, still lingering in the air, not nearly as heavy as their silence was.

Time and distance began to expand, yet shrink around Bea and Allie all the same.

When they had nothing else to look at anymore, they were compelled to look at each other.

When they had nothing to react to anymore…..they were compelled to react to each other.

“So…that was cheesy.” – Allie broke the ice as she always did, hesitantly approaching Bea. She then pointed to the impromptu ceremony spot or, rather, what was left of it – white roses everywhere and mixed footprints in the sand.

A smile curled the corners of her mouth when she shuffled her feet on the ground, nervously. Bea could only return the favor, weakly. Only Allie seemed to know how much effort that really took for her…and the fact that Bea was trying meant the world to her.

More than any other moment tonight, Allie ached to tell her _now_ that she didn’t even need to…that she was allowed to feel this, whatever this was, still tormenting her.

_I know you’re not okay. Please talk to me, tell me what to do._

“I take it back. That was at least 10 cheese factories. Pretty sure my cheese-o-meter just broke.”

Instead, she said all the wrong things…again.

“Yeah, it was….but you’re into that sappy stuff, aren’t ya?”

“Are you calling me a romantic, _Ms. Smith?_ ” – Allie inquired in an aggravated tone, feigning offense and touching her heart dramatically. “I am no such thing.”

“Sure….”

As she stepped closer, the flower girl’s eyes fixated on her even more, much like they have all night. This time around, however, they were noticing something else.

“Wait, don’t move…”

Her heart could have grown ten meters in size.

For a moment there, it probably did.

“ _Now_ you’re trying to kill me? Really--“ – Bea quirked an eyebrow, watching the blonde put her hands up in surrender, stifling a chuckle.

“Do you see a knife in my hands?”

“That’s what every serial killer would say to throw you off. There are other ways, Allie--“

“No, _silly_ , you just…you have something in your hair, hold on…”

The redhead scrunched up her eyebrows, lowering her gaze suspiciously.

“A razorblade you hid earlier?”

Allie’s first genuine laughter of the night came when she reached over and touched her hair, as Bea’s lips parted with a heavy exhale.

“This little guy stuck to ya…”– the florist explained, smiling softly, finally revealing the offending item to its unsuspecting bearer - a stray white rose petal. “Think he likes you.” – she added, shyly, holding it protectively in her hand, presenting it like a special gift.

Bea was struck by déjà-vu yet again.

“But don’t worry, I got you.”

_I got you all figured out. You might have fooled everyone with your poor damsel-in-distress act but not me._

“Couldn’t let him set up shop there, wouldn’t want your little secret admirer to ruin the wedding photos, huh?”

When her last chuckle subsided, Allie’s eyes fell upon Bea’s face again – and the image that stared back made her entire stomach twist into knots. Every muscle in Bea’s body seemed to have gone rigid out of nowhere, her face twisting into a painful grimace, as her eyes betrayed a split-second flash of pure… _dread._

Before Allie’s body caught up with her mind, Bea was already straightening her shoulders and putting her mask up again. Allie saw though every crack, she did all night…but her reflexes failed to react.

By the time she lifted her arm up ever-so-slightly, she was touching air.

Bea was already stepping back from her.

“T-thanks, Allie.” – she stammered out, her posture turning even stiffer, jaw clenching tight. “Can’t believe you knew what was gonna happen with those two….think Franky’s gonna flip when she sees you.”

“W-well I _am_ the world’s greatest psychic, you said it yourself--“

Allie took a step back, too.

“Not my words exactly…”

“Nuh-uh, that’s how _I_ remember it…”

“Fine, I’ll let it slide…this time.” – the redhead nodded mutely, her expression falling into a strained smile. “You should go back inside, too. Watch out for Franky’s celebratory hugs by the way, they tend to hurt.”

_Seeing you like this hurts more._

“I’ll um…I’ll be right out, too.  I just…I need a minute.”

As Bea’s low, broken tone pierced through the quiet, evening air, Allie’s heart sunk to the floor. She couldn’t mask the subtle cracks in her voice, either. But Bea seemed to try.

For _her._

And this time, realization dawned on the distressed redhead all the same, as her own fractured discourse reached her ears. She was starting to slip.

“Say no more…”

And she was _so_ ashamed of being seen like this…by Allie nonetheless.

Who knew _that_ , too.

Whose mouth was now opening and closing, no words coming out.

“Just… don’t wander too far, okay?”

Not the right ones, anyway. She had none of those.

“I won’t. Show must go on, right?”

By this point, Bea was the picture of pure misery.

“R-right…”

And Allie was the image of utter defeat.

She begrudgingly turned around, falling apart piece by piece with each reluctant step away. A wet coating took over Allie’s eyes unnoticed, giving them a beautiful, but sorrowful shimmer. She only saw once she was already inside and in one of the guest bathrooms, gazing at the mirror as her hands rested on both sides of the sink, clutching it a bit too hard.

She had never felt more powerless than in this moment. All she could do was fix her own cracks. She wiped her eyes with a cloth, before re-doing her entire make-up, her movements a lot slower than usual, shakier and more fragile. She never realized how much she needed the distraction until now. And putting on masks was what she excelled at.

Her mascara was smudged and her eye-shadow had begun to fade, much like her hope. Allie didn’t know how long she sat there, the image staring back at her a complete stranger, so disconnected from reality.

She’s also never felt quite as weak and useless as now. And she had plenty of experience with both feelings. By the time she came back down, her practiced smile was set in place, a concrete structure she’s spent years perfecting, no trace of anything broken to be scrutinized externally by any prying eyes, despite the storm still raging inside.

And when she saw Maxine Conway’s frame crossing the room, she knew she had to at least try.

Try _again._ There had to be at least one person in here tonight who had some answers.

“Hey…Maxine?”

“What is it, love?”

“Sorry to bother you um…” – the flower girl chewed on her bottom lip, the taste of her own lipstick making her even sicker. “Have you..have you seen Bea?”

“You missed her by a beat, darling, she was just here but I think she went outside again….you might still catch her.”

“She uh….she seem okay to you?”

“Bit under the weather, love…but don’t worry, she’ll be fine. Weddings don’t really…do her good, you know?”

There was no use. Maxine seemed to be a closed book, too.

“Yeah…I noticed…”

_And no one will tell me why._

“I’ll um… I’ll go check up on her in a bit, then. Thank you.”

While Allie turned away to leave, Maxine sensed…. _something._

“Hey, Allie?”

“Yeah…?”

“Thank you for everything you’re doing tonight. That means a lot to us and I’m sure it means a lot to her, too.”

“I haven’t done anything.” – the blonde’s statement was etched in a bitter undertone she didn’t even hear, followed by a dismissive shrug. Her downcast, regretful eyes and her nails unconsciously digging into her palm told a much different story.

_I can’t do anything for her._

Now _Allie_ needed a drink.

“Yes, you have. Trust me. “

She also didn’t believe a single word that just came out of Maxine’s mouth…who seemed to know.

“I’ll leave you to it, love. I’m on watch duty, got a bride to keep semi-sober for the post-wedding photos…”

“Good luck with that.”

“Eh…she only seems drunk with happiness now. But you never know.”

_Least someone is._

“Thanks again, Maxine.”

“Please, call me Maxie.”

And _that_ was the much needed cue for Allie. _She_ was starting to slip, too.

In a flash, she was already gulping down two glasses of champagne in one go, before retreating on top of a staircase, away from the sea of chattering guests below, away from the noise.

But not even the muffled conversations blended with honest laughter and the sound of feet tapping rhythmically to the floor, following the beat of a song Allie couldn’t be bothered to listen to could muffle the turmoil in her mind. She never liked alcohol, clearly not as much as her precious old man but, oddly enough, the burning sensation as it sunk down her throat and settled into her every issue seemed to provide _some_ clarity.

She didn’t know how long she sat there once more, watching over the atmosphere below, watching over everyone like she was the odd one out. For all intents and purposes, she filled those shoes well her entire life. It shouldn’t be surprising that she still did. She was a skilled person, after all.

However, decision-making was one of her…lesser skills.

Because, before she could stop to process her own intentions, she was already outside, taking a deep, sharp breath that didn’t seem to calm her down in the slightest. The chilly evening air pierced her bones, causing her to shiver.

With another full glass of champagne in hand now like a trusted companion….or maybe liquid courage, she was already walking, like her feet knew a destination she didn’t.

She knew she should turn back – in all understandings of the phrase. She had about a million reasons to yet again.

It was the wise call to make, the _right_ call to make.

But she couldn’t let this go.

She couldn’t let _her_ go.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Whoever said writing doesn't heal was a moron - this helped turn one of my worst weeks around. :) Same for these two - they are morons who love each other.
> 
> P.S. @my two commenters from last chapter who found it a bit confusing - guys, if anything ever feels unclear about the story, feel free to spam me in the comments below with any questions/theories etc. Enjoy, my pretty ones. <3

“Penny for your thoughts?” – Allie asked, gently, recognizing the contours of Bea’s slightly slouched frame from a mile away.

She was sitting down on the sand just like yesterday – holding her knees close to her chest, not even caring if she ruined that beautiful dress of hers in the process, transfixed, almost… _lost_ , engulfed in a palpable air of melancholia and distress. She could tell Bea was still preoccupied, maybe more so than she’s been all night and probably just wanted to be left alone…but something in Allie wouldn’t let her let this go.

Maybe because the sight hurt _her_ more than whatever was hurting Bea right now.

“Shit, Allie, you scared me.” – Bea yelped a little, the familiar sound of Allie’s soothing voice jolting her awake, just as her shadowy figure gradually became clearer. She could recognize those sparkling shades of blue anywhere, too.

If she was stranded before, Allie was her saving grace now, pulling her back to the shore.

Because her undemanding presence brought her nothing but peace and serenity…as always. Because, from Bea’s fractured angle, her cerulean eyes looked even more beautiful halfway basked in flickering light, halfway submerged in the shadows. The angelic glow and view gracing her less alight, tired eyes now made her draw in a sharp, involuntary breath.

As quiet as her strangled gasp was, Allie heard. She waited patiently, tethering on the edge, observing in awestruck marvel if nothing else, as the redhead breathed out heavily, turning away to stare at the waves again. The familiarity of it all struck Allie with the worst case of déjà-vu. However, unlike yesterday, she was starting to fear she couldn’t reach Bea at all now, no matter what she said or did.

It wasn’t the first time she tried. And not just today.

But Allie couldn’t get that split-second picture out of her mind – Bea seemed on the brink of falling, as if standing in that cursed spot for a single more second would have destroyed her entirely. Something told her Bea didn’t want to be found….but Allie couldn’t help but still chase her, much like the sun chasing the moon tirelessly but never quite meeting on the same sky.

Maybe it was everything she’s done since the day they met.

“Sorry. Can’t help it, it’s the face I was born with.” – the blonde probed, cautiously, cracking a light joke, coupled by a lively smile, in spite of herself. She then took a few tentative steps in Bea’s direction. The redhead didn’t seem to react in any way – she _would_ have smiled back if she could get it to show. “I uh...just wanted to check up on ya, but I can go if you want—“

“No, it’s fine, you can stay.” – she uttered in a hoarse, defeated tone…and only to the waves ahead, like they were speaking to her in a language the flower girl _still_ couldn’t decipher. Something about them seemed to anchor her.

“Wow, tone down the enthusiasm a little--“

“I didn’t mean it like that.” – Bea sighed once more, halfway turning to her to punctuate her words. “You’re welcome to stay. Better?”

“You don’t have to lie but thanks.” – Allie joked again, still failing to pull a smile from her morose company. But she was no quitter. “It’s really nice out here.”

Bea hummed quietly in approval, still enchanted, hypnotized even by the sublime scenery before her, the rhythm of the waves clashing against the shore in the background only interrupted by their synchronized breathing. …everything else seemed to fade into silence for her. And, for once, she welcomed it with open arms. After all the noise, it was long overdue.

Allie, on the other hand, was entrapped by a much different sight yet again. She _still_ only had eyes for her.

“You’re really not much of a talker, are ya?”

“Not really.”

“That’s weird, alcohol’s supposed to do that.”

If only Allie knew it was precisely what it was going to do….but not for Bea.

For _her_.

“What’s that, the 5th one you had? Damn, Bea, you can really hold your liquor, it’s kinda impressive--”

“What, you keepin’ tabs on me now?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. “ – Allie backpedaled a little verbally, her lips curving upwards slightly when she finally sat down next to her, much too far away. She felt that extra kick in Bea’s words and she got the message – not the time to be a smartass. “Alcohol is half the fun in a wedding, right?”

“I’ll drink to that.”- the sarcastic redhead emphasized her approval by raising her glass in the air, taking another generous gulp of the ridiculously expensive sparkly thing Franky was so hellbent on serving, for _whatever_ reason. It didn’t numb her quite as much as she would’ve wanted. She was more of a whiskey on the rocks type of woman.

“I get it, Bea…” – the blonde’s expression dropped, switching to forlorn, matching Bea’s perfectly now. Maybe they _were_ in sync, after all. “All of that does get overwhelming – the sickly sweet love in air, the dancing, the music..I don’t blame ya for ditching it. Cuz it’s kinda like the whole world telling you you’re broken for not having any of it by a certain date or rubbing their happiness in your face.”  

“Says the woman who deals with all of that for a living.”

“Hey, a paycheck’s a paycheck.” – the florist clarified, matter-of-factly, enraptured by the waves now, too..or maybe, on some level, unconsciously avoiding eye contact. Allie felt like an intruder in her safe space now – rattling her even more was the last thing she wanted.

It was a pretty picture indeed – the gentle flow of the water, the shore stretching endlessly ahead, the faded city lights glowing in the distance….but it couldn’t hold a candle to the previous one.

Because, to her, even when sitting there, broken and bruised, Bea was still the most beautiful sight she’s ever laid eyes on. And Allie wasn’t nearly drunk enough yet to laugh at how cheesy that sounded. Right now, it just hurt.

But not because Bea didn’t know _someone_ saw her that way.

It was because _she_ wasn’t seeing it herself.

“And I’ll have you know I’m just doing my noble job on this Earth, to deliver—“

“Deliver happiness. Yeah, I got that.”

“I guess I just _like_ flowers. They’re pretty and they make people happy. What’s not to like, right?”

_Just like you._

“Even if half the marriages end in divorce and the cheaters then send flowers to their side piece a month later or sleep with the maid of honor on the same flower bed meant for their future wives—“

“Well, _now_ you’re talking.” – Bea pointed at her in approval, with a much-awaited surge of energy.

And finally…a _smile_. Maybe she was getting somewhere.

“Don’t be fooled, Bea.” – Allie chuckled under her breath, then gestured airily with her left arm. “I know it’s not all… rainbows. No pun intended.”

They _were_ at a lesbian wedding, after all.

“But I uh…” – she continued, hesitantly, now fumbling with her third champagne glass like she just realized she held it in her hand. “I never had any of that, anyone trying to pick the right floral arrangement for me or even ask what my favorite flower is. So it’s nice to do it for someone else, y’know?”

Those words were heartbreaking enough to shake even the most soulless being on Earth to their core. They instantly pulled Bea from her self-imposed trance too, with a greater force than she anticipated. It was an impulse stronger than herself, something she couldn’t _fight_ …once again. She swiftly turned around to face Allie completely now just in time to notice something else - they were delivered with a flawless, soul-crushingly dismissive smile yet again…like it was no big deal.

Bea didn’t know why it hurt _her_ so much that the flower girl felt the need to mask her pain around her…as if she had no right to feel it in the first place, as if feeling it somehow made her… _less._

But she couldn’t have missed the restrained shakiness and hurt slipping into Allie’s voice even if she wanted to – because it passed onto her in a flash, like it physically hurt _her_ that no one cared enough to ask what Allie’s favorite flower was.

When she obviously asked _everyone_ _else_. She didn’t know why this bothered her so much but it really did.

“And your friends, they kind of give me hope. That it’s not all bullshit.”

“They’re your friends too now, you know.” – Bea corrected her and Allie responded with an even less convincing smile. It was a pitiful attempt she saw right through – the blonde didn’t believe a word of it. “And well..they’re the exception, not the rule.”

“Yeah, I know…” – Allie tapped her finger rhythmically against her glass, talking more to the sand and the waves now, too. As a stronger gust of wind passed, sheltering the blonde’s gaze from her own, now covered by a few loose strands of hair, Bea had that same driving impulse to move closer. Much like then, that fateful night that seemed to have changed everything, she ached to tuck them away.

She didn’t. She just stayed put and watched.

It was what she excelled at.

"It’s just….inspiring, I guess.“ - Allie sighed, then placed one of her arms over the other, feeling that chill run straight through her. “Kinda like television. Gives us all a little faith. Almost makes you want the exception, too. Or be someone’s exception…”

As soon as she realized what she said, the florist bit down hard on her bottom lip, then waved her hand around, brushing off her previous comment, just in time to match a verbal, rushed _“Sorry, that was really stupid…”_ Her body shifted on its own accord before she could even process the intention to move.

In a flash, she was already dusting the sand off her dress, ready to leave.

“I don’t think it is.”

Bea’s honest, steady voice held her in place.

“R-really?”

“Yeah…cheesy, maybe…but not stupid.”

Allie stopped mid-motion and sat back down.

“How cheesy are we talking? Broke the scale yet?”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t have one, you tell me.”

“Not yet…”

Her still weak, but genuine smile lit up the slightest flicker of hope in Allie, too. Maybe she did manage to make a small difference tonight…she needed to know.

“Anyways…I don’t expect to have made you hate weddings any less but I hope you at least had _some_ fun with me so far.”

“Well…” – Bea trailed off, allowing another half-smile to grace her features, this time aimed directly at an expecting Allie…who was starting to regain her own light. “Aside from the toes incident which I’m willing to overlook, you _were_ better than the chimps Franky wanted me to parade around with and you didn’t force me to slow dance—“

The flower girl returned the favor shyly, as her previous chirpy look fell again, replaced by a serious, meaningful one. She needed her to know something else, something important.

“I would...I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, you know that, right?”

Speaking of unintended double meanings….Bea suddenly needed champagne shot into every one of her tissues. Intravenously, preferably.

“I’d be a terrible plus-one if I did. For my ego, I will take that as a compliment, though it could use a little more—“

“Enthusiasm?”

“There it is. Anyhow, I’ll go check up on our favorite brides a little, think some congrats are in order. It’s time for the toasts soon, so don’t wander too far…again. I’ll save ya a seat, it comes with extra champagne.”

“Think I had enough but thanks, Allie.”

It was a lie. She was only just beginning. Not even all the champagne in the world could drown everything drowning _her_ tonight. Allie seemed to know, seemed to sense everything she wasn’t saying. She almost hated her for it.

“I know you probably won’t take me up on the offer but I uh…I just want you to know you can always come to me…” – the blonde barely mustered an encouraging tone, every word etched in nothing but raw honesty, care and tenderness, despite everything inside of her still bleeding.

Because Bea was shattering right next to her and she couldn’t do _anything_ to stop it.

“If you…if you need anything...”

_I need you._

Was what that same remote, carefully hidden part of Bea wanted to say…and probably never would.

“I’m around.”

With that, Allie moved closer, casting another longing look at Bea’s still fallen exterior, then placed a comforting hand on her exposed shoulder, lightly caressing it. All Bea could give in return was a sharp, ragged breath akin to a gasp yet again, as her body always reacted when Allie touched her, even in the smallest, most casual of ways. She had nothing else. Her eyes remained glued to the flower girl’s hand…when they really _ached_ to inch upwards.

But she couldn’t bear to see her.

Now when _she_ was seeing her like this.

“By the way….you look beautiful tonight.”

_And always._

Not when Allie always saw more when she saw _less_. It almost made Bea hate her…again.

“Thank you.”

Because she didn’t deserve words like that from her, either.

She didn’t deserve words like that from anyone.

Still, with everything she was, she wanted Allie to stay a little while longer. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was everything still tormenting her. She ached to grab Allie’s hand before she retreated it, touch it with her own, keep her in place, maybe even… _ask_ her to stay.

The bolder, needier, more fragile side of her ached to turn Allie around and crash into her like a hurricane, crumble in her arms with no expectations to be anything, for a single moment, knowing there would be no questions asked, no answers demanded, only a pair of loving, awaiting, gentle arms ready to catch her and hold her at her worst, while she wept until there was nothing left.

Allie would do it for her. She would keep her safe and sound until nothing hurt and everything fell _right_ into place again…because that’s how Allie always felt to her – right. Because that’s who Allie was – selfless until the end.

But, much like her entire life had been a series of missed chances, of _“almost…but not quite there”,_ so was this. 

She failed to react in time.

Allie was already walking away.

And Bea was letting her.

Because it wasn’t fair to ask.

She did, however, realize one thing – that she was wrong.

She could never hate the blonde for anything, not even if she wanted to.

There was only one person other than herself that she hated tonight.

And it wasn’t Allie.

As the flower girl walked back into the shadows and out of her sight, Bea’s regret-filled look followed her retreating frame, her only beacon of hope, drifting further and further away, taking her own limited share of light with her. It wasn’t long before everything came steadily crashing down with a devastating force. As it turned out, with every step Allie took away from her, the chatter in her mind and heart only resonated louder. It was one of those lose-lose arguments, because neither side was willing to compromise for the sake of her sanity, if nothing else. She would never win because one of them always overpowered the other.

She remained stuck to that single spot, held in place by the weight of everything she’s not saying and the weight of everything she never deserved to hear, as the unmatched chaos from earlier raged on so much clearer than before, wreaking more havoc now, pulling her under with its ugly claws, no trace of any saving grace anymore. What was once calming and peaceful turned into stifling and heavy...not even the waves seemed to work anymore…not when _she_ wasn’t there.

Only Allie seemed to make her forget.

She didn’t know why…or maybe didn’t _want_ to know why. When she was there, Bea could almost breathe normally, tune out the worst memory of her life, perhaps erase it altogether. She could _almost_ forget the words and the lingering stab they left as they traveled from her brain down to her heart, piercing through half healed scars, ravaging every tissue in their path, opening them up even more.

Allie was _so_ close to stopping the bleeding…closer than anyone else ever got.

_I got you all figured out._

**_I was thinking we could get to know each other a little._ **

_You might have fooled everyone with your poor damsel-in-distress act but not me. You’re a shitty actress, you know._

**_No way you could be terrible at anything._ **

_This is all your fault, you stupid bitch._

**_You really are a sweetheart, aren’t ya?_ **

_Planned this to trap me, haven’t you?_

**_Nonsense, everyone should have that, the fairytale._ **

_...cause no one would put a fucking ring on you in a million years._

**_Everyone deserves that, even if just for a day…I’m also talking about you._ **

_You should thank me for making a woman out of you, gave your family something to look forward to ‘cause even they can’t wait to give you away._

**_Well in that case you’ll have a very beautiful wedding._ **

_I’m doing you a favor – no one would want you and everyone knows it._

**_Anyone would be lucky to do this with you, for the record._ **

_You’re nothing without me._

**_You could never ruin anything for me._ **

_Now smile. Smile and pretend you actually want this._

**_I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do._ **

**_…_ ** _or I’ll make you regret it._

**_Still not too late to back out, Bea. Just say the word._ **

_Everyone’s watching._

_**You can open those beautiful** **eyes for me now.**_

_Better put on a good show._

**_If it was up to me, I would have done this right._ **

When Allie was there, she could stop their tormenting echo for a single blissful second, turn it off entirely, hear something else. She could drown those hideous, venomous words for good, replace them with different ones instead. Beautiful ones. Words she never deserved in a lifetime but ached to welcome in her heart, if only to fix the damage…words she desperately wanted to believe were true.

She nearly did. When Allie was there.

But now Allie was gone.

And she still didn’t understand how…

How could her words mirror his yet rip them apart and bury them six feet under, all at once? How could every cruel, taunting, ear-splitting sentence of his find a gentle, contradicting echo in her words, almost daring him to take them back, render him speechless for good, like there was nothing else his rotten self deserved more than that? Complete and utter... _silence._

How could she make everything better when she was there and how could her absence bring him back, louder and _angrier_ than before?

What Harry said on their wedding day didn’t hurt so much because _he_ said it…he didn’t mean anything to her. Not then and definitely not now. The only reason it did was because Bea thought he was right. With everything in her, she did. And nothing can ever hurt quite like the truth.

Because his words were nothing but a reminder, a nagging echo of the voices in her head that she's tried to silence her whole life, voices that told her repeatedly, in non-negotiable terms just how broken, unfixable, unlovable, ugly and inadequate she was.

And she always believed them. Harry only brought them out.

Allie was a romantic. A pure, idealistic soul who dared to paint the ugliest, most twisted and unfair world in only the brightest of colors. And she didn’t deserve to be a part of that world. Allie was also kind and generous and always saw the best in people, no matter how many times they presented the worst to her. That’s why she didn’t see _her_ for who she was. All Allie saw was beautiful because that’s who Allie was, she sought beauty in that same backwards world that never once gave her what she deserved. Instead, it failed her – again and again and again.

If Allie was a beautiful, blossoming flower, she was nothing but a weed, stunting her growth.

Bea had none of that to offer. There was _nothing_ beautiful about her.

Then why did she _long_ for Allie to see her that way? It was a pretty picture but it wasn’t hers, wasn’t true.

Harry _had_ to be right and _she_ had to be wrong.

She shouldn’t need Allie this way, shouldn’t need Allie to feel whole tonight. It wasn’t fair to her. And it was pathetic.

But maybe she did.

And she still didn’t know why, if that was the truth, all she’s been doing since the moment they laid eyes on each other was run away from her – in more ways than one.

Today was no exception.

She breathed out again with an even heavier heart and conflicted mind now, downing the rest of that champagne at the speed of light. She felt nothing as it went down. Nothing at all. Alcohol didn’t seem to work anymore, either.

All she felt was Allie’s hand, still anchoring her long after the sensation wore away. The lingering softness of her touch was burned to the back of her mind like a treasured memory – she held onto it, wishing, yearning to chase it back. It seemed to put her together and now she was falling apart again.

Every moving picture kept playing in her head in mortifying sequences she couldn’t stop, choking her even more. Because all she had that day were the same waves she was contemplating now…and they weren’t working anymore. All she had were their calming image and soothing, rhythmic movements, keeping her from lashing out, running away, crying or fighting back in any way. They helped keep the bleeding on the inside just enough to go through with the ceremony and after-party on the beach, maybe even with a smile on her face, without _anyone_ suspecting a thing, without _anyone_ suspecting she already knew what a monster her future husband was and what life laid ahead for her….and her unborn daughter.

Not only did Harry make her dread weddings so much it made her physically sick, _so_ sick she could barely do this one thing for her best friend, same best friend who saved her from that horrible monster..

No, if that wasn’t enough, he made her ruin this for…

Allie, too…

She should have done this tonight with anyone but her.

Allie deserved anyone else…. _but_ her.

Bea would have wept until she fell apart if she could, would have cried if she had any tears to shed, would have fought if she had any strength in her, maybe even used it to throw that meaningless champagne glass away, let the waves swallow it…because it was useless now.

 _He_ was everywhere and _she_ was nowhere to be found.

 _He_ was deafening and she was no louder than a whisper, so quiet her words were turning into a fading echo she could barely identify anymore.

She could only feel her touch.

If only she knew Allie felt her all the same.

Even when she wasn’t there anymore. The thought that they were linked together in spite of any distance – physical or emotional was even harder to bear for Allie tonight.

_Seahorses like to swim in pairs. They link tails so they don’t lose each other._

Because she still stubbornly believed that, even when Bea was only swimming further away from her. Bea wasn’t hers to hold. She had no right to need that from her. Bea wasn’t hers to have, either.

Then why did she feel like she was losing her…when she never even had her in the first place?

Why couldn’t she do a single _goddamn_ thing to help her?

With that thought in mind tearing through her last shred of hope, Allie was now inching towards the front entrance and in the process of setting her polite, courteous smile back on her face again with superhuman efforts. She was just halfway there when she nearly bumped into a jolly Franky who was on her way to check up on Bea, too.

“Why hello there, _speedy_. Watch where you’re going---”

“Beautiful vows, Mrs. Doyle, didn’t think you had it in ya.”

They both spoke at the same time, chuckling lightly in realization soon after. Allie’s came hollow and forced. Franky, on the other hand, was absolutely glowing now, she wore this soft, starry look in her eyes. Allie knew what it meant – she’s seen it every time she gazed into a mirror tonight….and the mirror never lies.

“It’s Doyle- _Westfall_ for you now. Thanks, blondie. Good job back there, by the way, color me impressed. And thanks for coming, too, you got Red to drink half what I expected her to. “

_H-half?_

“That means you’re good company.” – the bride clarified, mildly amused by the vivid concern and panicked expression gracing the blonde’s features…and maybe equally appreciative, too.

_So she really cares, this one._

“So I’ve been told.”

“She said that to you?”

“Not exactly, just that she hated me less than whoever you wanted to set her up with before.”

“Trust me, flower girl, coming from Red, that’s basically _I like you_ \- in plain, human language.”

“Doubtful.” – Allie scoffed in disbelief, finally drinking all the champagne in her forgotten glass in one massive gulp. Franky noticed – in any other context, she would’ve been impressed by that skill…but she sensed something was off with the blonde, too. As always, she knew exactly what.

“Anyways, I _should_ be going, I’ve imposed enough on your wedding already—“

“Bullshit, _Kodak_.” – Franky put up a dismissive, almost threatening hand in the air.

“It’s Novak---“

“Sent you an invite, didn’t I? And if my grouchy bestie failed to mention - that makes you my guest just as much as everyone else. Since _I_ wanted you here and you’re at _my_ wedding, your skinny ass presence is mandatory. There’s a lot that still needs to happen so you’re gonna stay ‘till the end and stuff your face with cake. Plus, you wouldn’t mind hanging out with Red for a bit, would ya?”

“I don’t think she’d want me around that much—“

Franky looked at Allie, openly scanning every inch of her face, making her severely uncomfortable. She took a deep breath, followed by a drawn out exhale.

_You poor idiot….you got it bad._

The tattooed woman chose to ignore the obvious hint to back the hell away written in every shade of now fading, diminishing blue. She stepped closer to Allie, as her voice dropped in pitch and in volume – both very rare occurrences for the usually loud, brash brunette.

Because these words were only meant for the dejected florist to hear – no one else.

“This thing with her and weddings, got nothing to do with you, _blondie,_ so don’t take it personally, a’right? Trust me, you’ve already done more than you know for her. No matter what you think, I’d give you a 10 on plus-one duties tonight, which means you get to keep those spider legs. Seriously, hit the gym sometime, I know a good personal trainer, wink wink---”

Allie smiled, weakly…she didn’t believe a word. Franky knew.

She wanted to ask what it was about Bea and weddings but something told her Franky’s lips were sealed shut, no entrance point in sight or bargaining chip to use. She tried once already. She also suspected it wasn’t the bride’s place to spill this particular sensitive information, either. It had to be something deeply personal for Bea.

What did she even expect? Bea telling _her_ …of all people? She had no right to know. But it _killed_ her that she didn’t.

“And don’t even try to bullshit me, you don’t really want to leave, you just think she wants you to. Trust me, she doesn’t.”

Allie hopelessly tried to refute all of that, she opened her mouth once or twice to do just that but….she had _nothing_ to speak into existence. How…predictable.

“You like her, don’t you?”

_Like? That’s funny._

Allie opened her mouth again, determined to set the bride straight….no pun intended.

“O-of course. “

And _failing._ Words _really_ weren’t her strong suit.

“She’s uh….she’s more likeable than you, that’s for sure.”– she tried once more, stumbling all over her words, coated in a muffled chuckle she barely mustered all the way through. “W-well, I mean, who isn’t---”  

The small, involuntary stutter that passed her lips wasn’t lost on a smirking, all-knowing Franky.

“I mean you _like_ like her, dumbass.” – the bride rehashed, as a flash of dread mixed with _something_ slipped into Allie’s eyes, causing the smartass smirk on Franky’s face to spread even further into a toothy grin. The blonde paled instantly, cleared her throat then fixed her hair, uncomfortably, just about to shoot another comeback.

Franky’s reassuring hand on her shoulder and sympathetic gaze connecting with hers stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Don’t deny it, I’ve seen it. You’ve been making goggly eyes at her all night and you got longing and puppy lady love written all over ya. And during our vows, you looked at her. Might if I ask why?”

“Y-you got eyes to the back of your head or something—“ – Allie stammered, taking a shaky step back on her heel, forcing Franky’s hand to fall right off.

“Hey, speaking of eyes…just answer my question, goggly eyes.”

Her persistence remained intact.

“Fine.” – Allie readjusted her stance, fixing her hair again, this time angrily. “It just..made me think, alright?”

“About what?”

Allie could have punched the nosy bride in the face, if she wasn’t busy using those same hands to clutch her empty champagne glass a little too close to her frame now.

“How she deserves to hear words like that, too.. “

Now her anger was slipping into her speech. Because, above all, she was angry…

_How I’m not good with words and I can’t even give her that._

_…._ with herself.

“How it’s a tragedy because I’m guessing no one bothered to give them to her before. That’s it. Are you happy now?”

Franky’s face could have cracked right there - her already unnaturally wide grin spread even more, turning five shades brighter.

“Very happy.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I _will_ get another drink. This whole conversation gave me a headache.”

With those last spoken syllables drenched in finality and, above all, _distress_ , Allie angled her head to look around the room, seizing the opportunity to bolt through the sea of chattering guests before Franky could get as much as a word out. True to her promise, the annoyed (and rattled) flower girl did grab another drink on the way, not even bothering to see what it was. By now, she was getting used to the numbness alcohol gave her, welcomed it with open arms. It helped keep everything at bay, away from prying eyes and ears…

Or so Allie hoped.

Because when Bea unintentionally heard _those_ words coming from her mouth, she was rendered speechless, as everything crashed and burned around her with an even more damaging fire than before. With a clenched heart and a crestfallen expression, all she could think was:

_I’m not who you think I am._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't suffered enough....
> 
> Not only did no one ever ask what Allie's favorite flower was...no one got Bea flowers in years aside from Franky and her daughter...until now. Because Allie is her exception now, too and she doesn't even know it.
> 
> And I wrote it this way because I'm the devil. Goodbye. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I probably don't say it enough but I appreciate the hell out of everyone reading/commenting. You guys are golden.
> 
> P.S. Slow burns are torture, I know. Hate the author, never the characters. :)

_I’m not who you think I am._

Her pulse raced, overrun by adrenaline coursing through her body, spreading like wildfire, doubled by sheer panic and raw _hurt_. It was a more devastating mix than all the alcohol she’s drunk tonight, combined. She said her congratulations to Franky quickly, ignoring the brunette’s concerned look sinking into her back, before darting outside towards the beach again, her eyes instantly settling on a familiar flash of blonde.

Bea quickened her pace, chasing it like a lifeline, each step matching the thunderous beats of her heart. When she finally reached Allie, she grabbed her by the arm almost aggressively, prying her away to a more secluded spot.

“Hey, Allie...walk with me for a bit?”

The blonde had no time to react, she only felt a rough touch on her skin, striking with lightning force. Next thing she knew, she was hastily turned around, her confused, distant baby blues a million shades gentler and dimmer, nowhere close to the fire burning in hers. Because the sight that graced Allie’s eyes made her mouth fall open in light shock, her throat tightening around itself, choking her.

_What happened to you?_

For a moment there, it seemed no right words were invented to match the wild storm in Bea’s, closing in on her, let alone tame it.

Allie had _nothing._

Bea’s expression was unreadable yet scrutinizing at the same time, piercing and seeing right through her like a laser beam. She seemed jittery, nearly on edge now, a stark contrast to her previous fallen self. Everything about her seemed to have changed dramatically…and it left Allie loaded with apprehension.

Eventually, she did speak, each syllable crashing heavily against her lips.

“Y-yeah, sure.”– the words came rushed and breathless, just in time to match Allie’s anxious fumbling with her sleeves as the redhead crossed her arms in front of her. “Everything okay?”

Bea’s glance roamed all over her face in rapid, questioning motions.

Allie felt it down to her core. She was setting her aflame now, too.

“So I uh…heard what you said to Franky.“

Her lips parted with a faint gasp…because the more she watched, the more she faltered. Now the air around _them_ seemed to change even more dramatically.

“Didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, just wanted to congratulate her—“

Bea’s words kept on coming but they were nothing but a muffled buzz in Allie’s ears now. She swallowed to no avail – the rising lump in her throat wasn’t going anywhere. As Bea drew nearer, Allie took a shaky, wobbly step back on her heel, nearly stumbling backwards.

“Anyways, I..I had to ask, why’d you say that?”

Bea closed in on her further, lowering her gaze, still studying every inch of her face intently, as if looking for.. _something._ With panic pulsing through her veins like poison, Allie’s face dropped and her complexion rapidly turned paler…again.

"W-which part?” – she questioned, a stifled hint of fear slipping in unconsciously before she could do anything to stop it.

Bea was too high-strung to notice.

“The words thing. I just..heard the end.”

The flower girl’s rushed, but relieved exhale followed. She didn’t know… _everything._ Thank God.

“You don’t even _know_ me, Allie.” – Bea stared her down even more, her expression turning colder now, inching somewhere between accusatory and _angry._ "Youhave _no_ idea what I deserve.”

_Of course I do._

Allie breezed past her hostility unfazed, readjusting herself into a defensive pose, clenching her fallen jaw and straightening her shoulders. She was presenting an even stronger front. Because what she was really witnessing now was underlying _hurt._

Allie was seeing right through her, too.

“So if you could just…stop acting like you do, that would be great.”

“I know enough.”

The blonde’s words dropped with a devastating, eerily taunting _calm_ , fueling the storm in a similarly broken pair of eyes cutting through her own. Because what Allie was actually saying was…

_I won’t let you push me away._

And Bea _thought_ she was getting the message – but it was the wrong one.

“What?”

The more Allie stood her ground, the angrier Bea got. She blinked once or twice in disbelief, then scoffed.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

It came angrier than she realized. And it didn’t take long for her misplaced rage to keep on blazing, with nothing left to rein it in. She couldn’t tell where it came from, just that it did – in roaring waves crashing against each other. Who gave Allie the right to be so presumptuous _again?_

Same Allie moving much too close to her now, looking at her much too softly and all-wise yet again, like she knew _something_ she didn’t, rattling her, drawing even more anger out with every step she took.

“Enough to realize there’s more to your hate for weddings and marriage than meets the eye. Enough to know that there’s a reason why you can’t be around all of this. I don’t mean to pry but..I can see it. I don’t need the details to know something or someone hurt you. But if you ask me…whichever the case, it’s not worth it. Hell, it’s not even worth getting drunk over--”

 _No one_ got under Bea Smith’s skin. So really, who did Allie think she was? She had no business going around pretending to be all-knowing about _anything_...starting with all the reasons why she hated weddings and ending with why she had to drink to numb herself into oblivion _,_ to stop herself from thinking about… _her,_ the same person standing here now, foolishly believing she knew or had any right to act like she did.

Everything Allie thought she knew was a lie.

Everything Allie saw her as…was a lie.

She didn’t know _enough._ She didn’t know _a thing._

“And what would _you_ know about any of it, Allie?” – Bea hissed through clenched teeth, her shattering gaze tearing straight through Allie’s heart, forcing her to take another reluctant step back, as a flash of raw hurt passed between them both. “Miss happy-go-lucky-flowers-are-pretty—“

As soon as Bea realized what she said, she bit her tongue painfully, remembering that time in Allie’s shop when she saw her light falter, closely followed by Allie begging _someone_ to stay and maybe silently asking that of her, too…just so she wouldn’t be plagued by nightmares one more night. Both images flashed across her eyes like a movie she couldn’t put a stop to.

Allie was the last person in the world who deserved words like that, not when she delivered happiness for everyone else…but _herself._

Not when Allie probably had even more demons than her – demons she was putting on hold on purpose… _for_ her _._

“Okay, Bea, alright.” – Allie took a sharp breath, backpedaling literally and physically, but only for a second, enough to gather her thoughts and strike back. “Story time. Have a seat, why don’t ya?” – she urged, not one to get intimidated easily, patting the seat next to her, with purposeful aggressiveness in her tone and urgency in her gestures.

Bea complied, dutifully, taken aback by the sudden heated tone Allie never used on her. She’d lie if she said it didn’t cut through her like the sharpest blade in the world right then, causing her own anger to diminish by the second.

Allie didn’t deserve that. But _she_ did. The florist was just trying to help, like always - and she didn’t know why she couldn’t let her or why she wanted to drive her away or run for the hills every single _goddamn_ time she tried tonight.

"And I don’t care if you wanna hear it, I think you have to, before you pass any more of that sweet, _sweet_ judgment on me—“

If there was anything Allie could match Bea on, it was snark and utter stubbornness. Two could play that game and two could win all the same.

"I’m sorry, that was rude, I didn’t mean to—“

The remorse sinking into her voice did very little to stop the steady flow of _everything_ flooding Allie right now…it was only pouring salt on a wound Bea had no idea she even opened. Something broke inside of her, too and now it was falling upon them both.

"You wanna know why I _really_ like flowers? The not-so-pretty, happy-go-lucky version?”

Bea fell silent. It was about time she did.

All she did manage to say was wrong, anyway.

"Cause they remind me of the one nice thing my bastard father had the courtesy to do. He used to bring my mom flowers almost everyday. He even brought me some growing up, on my birthday or when he got a promotion or any event he felt like celebrating. Perfect family man, that one. Until he stopped loving me altogether and threw me out into the street to fend for myself. ‘Cause that’s every girl’s dream junior prom, right?”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, Allie, I had no idea—“

“A few weeks back….before he even showed me the door, the flowers had stopped coming…which was so stupid because flowers are pretty and colorful and they didn’t do anything wrong, right? I was a kid, I didn’t get it… I didn’t get that they stopped coming because of me. Because I wasn’t who they wanted, I…” – Allie’s strangled voice wavered, then cracked audibly as a bitter sound that almost resembled laughter passed through.

She didn’t even hear it. But Bea did.

Because it resonated in _her_ , tearing down her walls, crumbling them to fine dust, ripping apart a piece of her in the process, one of the many she had no idea even belonged to Allie…

“I…loved the _wrong_ way.”

Because no sound had ever wounded her quite like this one. And she thought she heard the worst there were, from cracking bones to dishes shattering against marble floors to raging police sirens barely drowning anguished cries. None hurt quite like this...because, unlike the others, _she_ brought this one on, no one else. This was on her.

“I’m pretty sure even if they knew about the drugs and the prostitution and living on the street and all the fucked up shit I had to do to stay alive they’d _still_ resent me for being a lesbian more. Least I don’t exist to them anymore so there’s that.”

“Shit..I..I didn’t know. Fuck, Allie, I’m really sorry--”

“It’s fine, Bea don’t sweat it, we all do what we have to do, right? So if you want to judge something, judge _that_ , you wouldn’t be the first one. But get in line, the whole world’s still doing it.”

_I would never judge you._

She couldn’t say it – she choked. Because she related to that more than anyone else – the whole world passed that same brand of obtuse, poisonous judgment onto her. And she just granted the least deserving woman on this entire cursed planet that same vile treatment.

On most days, the world didn’t stop. From the moment she got married to Harry, she was no longer Bea Smith – she was reduced to definitive, sentence-like words such as _“victim”, “abused”, “failure as a mother”, “survivor”_ …anything but a flawed person who was just trying to get back on her feet after that same world unanimously decided she was worthless, destined to be pinned to the bottom, not deserving of a second chance.

Just like Allie.

She was the last person in the universe to judge her. If anything, it made her respect the flower girl even more. Because she came from nothing and now she was…. _everything._

She couldn’t remember the last time she cried…but she could have cried for her right there.

“For what it’s worth, it’s all in the past. But I guess now I just… I don’t want the flowers to stop for anyone else, y’know?”

This time, the tears did come, but she didn’t allow them to fall. Instead, they lingered there on the surface, like all the jumbled syllables she couldn’t put together in a beautiful structure, one Allie deserved. Everything in her body urged her to lean forward, hug Allie, comfort her, say _anything_ to make her feel better but she couldn’t move a single inch or voice a single word.

She fell apart right there because all she could be for Allie when she obviously needed someone was…a _coward._ She couldn’t _breathe._

“So if you need to rain down on someone, go ahead. There’s nothing you can say that I can’t take…nothing someone else hasn’t already done to me.”

And even now…Allie was more focused on _her_.

It was everything she’s done since the day they met.

"I’m still not wrong, Bea…”

Guilt hit her like a freight train.

Because if she thought Allie to be anything…it could never be _wrong._ Her family was wrong, everyone else was wrong…Allie was right.

 _“_ If you ask me…whatever you think you deserve… _you’r_ e wrong.”

But not about _this._

Bea opened her mouth to protest but Allie’s stern look shushed her.

"You are.”

And so did her words. So did the flower girl’s softening look, revealing more than she was worthy of. Because she was ready for anything but those familiar pools of blue showing no trace of contempt or resentment.

It was what _should_ be staring back at her now.

It was what _always_ stared back at her.

“It’s not that. It’s better.”

Not anymore.

Because now, of all times, Allie still stubbornly saw so much more in her than anyone else…no matter how many times she presented the worst to her.

_You deserve better, not me._

And maybe it was still unspoken…but what the darker, even more subconscious side of her really meant was…

_You deserve better than me._

If Bea suspected she didn’t deserve Allie in any capacity before…now she knew for sure that she didn’t. Not a single piece of her. She was pretty sure no one did.

Because no one could ever be good enough for Allie.

"I’m just saying…we all have our history, right? I don’t think it makes us any less, I think it makes us human. Doesn’t hurt to lean on someone once in a while. And for the record, you can always lean on me.”

It was then that it struck her - she couldn’t be _anything_ for Allie…and even now, Allie was _everything_ for her.

“Been told my shoulders are great for crying, soft and all. I never worked out a day in my life so maybe that’s why.”– Allie added, smiling sincerely and bumping Bea’s side in silent encouragement just a little as she did. “On second thought, I think they’re great for rage punching, too. I have no muscle tone, Bea, I mean it—“

_I would never hurt you._

Instead, she laughed through stifled tears, weakly, with only half the liveliness she intended to give. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help a lot of what her body or mind did around the flower girl or how in tune she was with her feelings. It was ridiculous how everything inside of her reacted to every word Allie said – she didn’t remember _that_ happening with anyone else before, not on this level. Not even Franky.

She had no idea what to do with that realization so she just placed it in her think-about-later box – alongside the rest of the messy stuff she really should be addressing at some point.

“You obviously do, though. Nice guns by the way. I would have whistled at’cha just now but I really can’t. I tried.”

Unfortunately for Allie, that was another skill missing from her extensive list, one she hasn’t mastered…yet. However, a more important skill of hers was knowing how to defuse a tense situation. Her humor slipped them back into their usual type of conversation like a security blanket washing over them both, as Bea rolled her eyes playfully in response.

_You’re too good for me._

“Thanks, Allie.”

Not even close…

“Also….” – the blonde trailed off cheekily, returning to her usual chirpy self with the touch of a button, like no major reveal had even happened, as if the air around them didn’t _still_ linger heavy with a million unspoken things. “Since I offered to save you some alcohol earlier today, that makes me qualify as your friend, right?”

She didn’t know where to place Allie in her life – friend seemed pretty close, but it also didn’t feel close… _enough._ If Allie was her friend, why did it feel like she never had a friend like that before? She had never once felt the way she did now around Maxie or Franky or Boomer.

Her heart never did _that_ around any of them.

"Maybe.”

Like everything she ever gave Allie, that wasn’t even in the neighborhood of… _enough._ It was all she had.

“You were right, though, Bea.”

“About what?"

“What you said before. “ – the blonde chewed on her bottom lip, her absent, faraway look hovering over the sand below. “Maybe I don’t know enough…”

_You do…_

“And I shouldn’t have overstepped just now..”

_You didn’t. I did._

"I’m sorry.”

_Don’t be. I am._

“No, it’s fine, Allie, really—“

"But I’d like to, if you’d let me.“

_I want to know everything._

As her gaze shot up from her own hands fumbling with each other just in time to meet those same blue orbs she avoided all night hesitantly seeking hers, the sheer honesty and transparence staring back at her only made more regret settle in.

Because Allie meant it. Maybe more than she could ever hope to express out loud.

“If not, just say the word and I’m out of your life after tonight. No questions asked.“

_Out of my…what?_

“Or as they say at weddings..” - Allie cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner, placing one hand over her heart, theatrically. “ _Speak now or forever hold your peace.”_ – she added in a thick, even more dramatic voice.

A long moment of silence ensued.

Because the words seemed to freeze Bea in place, pondering, questioning…

“Ookay then--”

…until she saw Allie rest her weight on her right arm, then attempt to lift herself up off the ground with the clear intention to leave. _Something_ about the sight of her retreating frame made her stomach do somersaults again, urging her to move – this time, she acted. She latched onto Allie’s arm with more force than she meant yet again, stopping her dead in her tracks.

“W-wait, Allie. Don’t go, I—“

As her earlier momentum fizzled out under the weight of her confused, but earnest eyes, Bea stepped back just a little, releasing her arm with an apologetic smile.

“Can I just um….try this again?” – she asked, treading lightly, carefully and hopefully, all at once. “Hi, I’m Bea Smith. There’s a reason why I don’t do apologies. I never get them right. And I don’t know how to change that.” – she added, hesitantly extending her hand.

Allie’s vibrant grin radiated a clear, tangible warmth, one she never deserved, reminding her of everything she never had when she needed it the most, everything that should’ve been rightfully hers all along – starting with a home and ending with… _happiness_. It unraveled her inside yet again…but this time, she returned the favor.

"Hi, I’m Allie Novak and I don’t need one.”

Even if the entire world should have given her just that – a million apologies.

As their hands touched in a feather-light dance, something heavier than a snowfall yet lighter than a snowdrop seemed to fall upon them both, leading them somewhere only they knew, somewhere safe and sound, creating a new world out of thin air hidden inside this one, encapsulated in it but somehow eerily detached from it.

And maybe, to her, it always felt like Allie was the sun, illuminating everything in its path and she was the moon, always chasing after the sun, but never quite reaching it. ..but for a single moment, they seemed to have found each other.

Because this, right here, was theirs – no one else’s.

This, right here, was a space no one could touch with tainted words, mistakes, regrets, misplaced anger or revenge.

Something changed.

_It’s cold…_

_It’s not cold…_

It wasn’t the first time.

And maybe it wasn’t an apology.

But it was a start.

"Soo…I hope you like the beach more than you like weddings….”– Allie spoke, quickly, reluctantly letting go of Bea’s hand in a pitiful attempt to dismiss and silence _whatever_ just shook her.

It didn’t work. Because _she_ felt it even more, with an earth-shattering intensity. Just like last time. 

She didn’t know what it was…because it _never_ happened with anyone else.

“B-because we’ve been here a while. I wouldn’t want you to hate this as much as you hate my company.”

“I don’t hate your company…”– Bea giggled, gracefully and lady-like. “That much. But don’t let that get to your head.”

“Good to know. “ – the blonde added in a sweet, innocent voice…like everything she was. “Mild enthusiasm _and_ a smile. This is Christmas Eve for me right now—“

“You want me to take that back?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t. I’d never recover.”

Allie was only halfway joking.

“And just to clarify, I _do_ like the beach. Used to bring my daughter up here all the time.”

“Miss her, huh?”

“Yeah…” – Bea exhaled heavily, her downcast eyes now hovering over the sand too, driven by another pang of guilt taking over her…a very different one. “But I’m managing.”

“Think she’s missing you, too.”

“Maybe.”

“She does, trust me.”

_Who wouldn’t?_

“Look, Bea…about before…about the words…I know you think I had no right to say it…but I still meant it. Whoever didn’t give them to you is an idiot.”

“That would be Debbie’s father.” – Bea uttered, quietly, a hint of disdain slipping into her voice.

“Let me guess – no father of the year award for him either, huh?”

“Something like that. He’s in jail now.”

“Shit…well, whatever happened, just…” – Allie sighed, instantly reading between the lines.

Because no matter how casual it sounded coming from her lips, it had to be a lot worse and a hell of a lot more complicated than Bea was making it seem right now.

“Don’t let what he said or did stop you from thinking you deserve nice things, y’know.” – she reached for her hand, clasping it lightly in her own, her simple gesture fixing a lot more damage than she even knew. “The flowers should keep coming for you, too.”

It was Allie’s own way of saying _“you should always be reminded that you’re loved.”_ Because that’s what flowers were to her – a reminder of the time _she_ was or at least thought she was, too.

“Good thing you know the finest flower girl in all of Sydney, right?” – she added, mimicking Franky’s voice to a T, as the sound of joined laughter filled the air.

In a much greater, cosmic sense, it was her way of also saying..

_"If you’d let me, I want to be the one that does it for you. Because… **I** love you.”_

She had nothing on Bea’s anguish, but that earth-shattering truth did not make tonight any easier on her, either. Because she thought she was the only one to fall. And she had no one to help her up. In spite of how much that hurt, Allie still didn’t see her personal feelings as even in the neighborhood of important.

Everything else was.

Tonight wasn’t about her. She wouldn’t allow it to be.

“Oii, Red. Stop flirting with blondie and get your ass back here. It’s time for the toasts and no, you are not getting out of it.”

As it turned out, Bea was entirely correct – her best friend had a flair for raining on people’s parade….this was the second sun-moon reunion she ruined, consecutively.

“She’s really not tactful, is she?” – Allie asked, visibly amused, as Franky’s head peered back in from inside as quickly as it came out. The bride, of course, knew exactly what she did – interrupted them on purpose for her personal enjoyment and, as part of a wedding gift she deserved that Bea wouldn’t provide in a million years.

Because, in the brunette’s mind, embarrassing her best friend in front of the crush she didn’t even know she had was _still_ a constitutional right she was deadset on exercising. Part of the ten commandments of friendship, too. It was her duty.

“Franky?” – Bea followed Allie’s gaze, then chuckled quietly in approval. “More like a boot through the wall. Bridget is an angel for putting up with that…and adding a ring on top…? No, scratch that, she’s…”

“A hero.”

“A hero.”

When they realized they spoke at the same time, more laughter followed, blending together like a beautiful harmony, eclipsing and maybe silencing everything else, rendering it so much _less_ important now. And when the last cheerful sound died down, then vanished into nothingness, they simply looked at each other. With every passing moment, time seemed to slow down until it froze altogether, as the world stopped spinning on its axis.

“Y-yeah, I hear ya.”

Or, maybe, _their_ world just did.

“Let’s go _, m’lady.”_

Bea raised a quizzical eyebrow, staring at an amused Allie now in mild shock like she suddenly grew two heads.

“Don’t read too much into it, Bea. I’m a gentleman, even to the straighties.”

Straighties. Right. Allie thought she was straight. Franky must’ve told her or she must’ve figured it out herself. And she was, she really was.

 _Was_ she?

Because there was _something_ about the way Allie was looking at her now that made her reconsider everything she thought she knew about herself.

Something about her calming voice, soothing and silencing every one of her demons, something about the way she felt she could trust her from day one, when she barely trusted anybody, something about the way she made her laugh more than she remembered anyone else doing it.

Not since she had Debbie around every day – and even then, their tragedy-filled lives left very little room for moments of carefree laughter.

“Just take the arm, miss stubborn…”

She didn’t remember _ever_ being half as confused as she was now. She didn’t have the heart to correct her and the fact that she even _had_ the brief, involuntary impulse to do so made her need even more alcohol, like she’s been stuck in the Sahara desert and she’d perish without that drink. At this point, she’d even settle for Franky’s girly, sparkly, snobbish, way too expensive champagne.  

And speaking of…had she just let that same Franky get in her head so much? She’s been in there, whispering crazy nonsense since the day she met Allie. Maybe that’s what _this_ was. She had to wonder.

"You drank too much. “

Allie thought she was drunk but, in all honesty, it was the complete opposite. Bea was pretty sure she was only _now_ sobering up. And it had everything to do with her.

Her think-about-later box just turned into her think-about-now box.

“Come on...it won’t bite ya…”

Yet, despite all of her jumbled, conflicting previous thoughts, she _still_ had it in her to make any type of excuse for the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest when Allie made a dumb joke or when she looked at her… _that_ way.

“Wouldn’t wanna fall face first into the sand, now would we?”

Like now.

Any excuse she could find in her endless arsenal that was as far away from the real reason as possible. She could admit that Allie made her nervous but that’s where her self-reflection gracefully stopped. And maybe happy, too. She supposed – she didn’t know how that shade reflected on her, she could hardly place it anywhere.

“I mean it would be entertaining on my end but you’re the one with the good face, wouldn’t wanna mess it up too, we’d be horror twins then--”

If only she could see herself through Allie’s eyes right now. She’d see that she was, in fact happy, glowing even.

But for now, she’d have to work with that limited information and keep the rest carefully locked away. What she could do, and quite masterfully at that, was bicker with her like no one’s business – the blonde was just asking for it.

“Oh, fuck off already. And if I _am_ gonna fall, I’m taking you with me, _smiley,_ so wipe that stupid grin off your face or I will.”

_Shit._

It was then that it hit her – that wasn’t _just_ banter.

Had she just flirted with Allie?

_Hey, Red, it’s your pal in your head, remember me? Here to deliver your daily dose of duuuuuh. You’ve been doing that since day one, dumb and dumber---_

No, no way. She didn’t mean anything… _special_ by it…anything _different_. And Franky _did_ start spewing nonsense in her ear again, cluttering her train of thought even more so maybe this was all on her. She was just bickering with Allie like always.

Of all people, Franky couldn’t be right…both the real life version and the voice-over one. Bea really needed to push them both out of her head or maybe quite literally smoke them out before they made this even weirder – she had already wronged Allie all night, the last thing she wanted was to make her uncomfortable in any way just because her brain was so loud and… _crowded._

Bea would rather hold the match herself and set her own frame on fire before she’d ever allow either of the two Franky’s the joy and delight of claiming _“I told you so.”_

And speaking of setting herself on fire…why was she so warm all over? Why was her heart rate picking up all of a sudden? She was shaking just a minute ago.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all so checkmate, Bea. Try again, find a better threat.”

Course Allie wouldn’t miss the open window to beat her at her own game. Marvelously. Why wouldn’t she?

“Fine, I’ll say mean things about flowers, then.“ – Bea crossed her arms, defensively, pouting like a child, not one to back down from a challenge, either.

“You wouldn’t dare.” – Allie countered with an exaggerated gasp, covering her mouth.

“Really? _That_ scares you?”

“Among other things..”

_Like this night ending and never seeing you again._

She couldn’t say it. And boy did she want to.

“Like snakes….nasty gigantic, slimy…” – the blonde’s features morphed into a disgusted (and cute) grimace. “Worms. Why do we live in Australia, again?”

“Plain luck I guess. Haven’t you heard? The universe just loves you and me…”– Bea wondered out loud, sarcastically, failing to catch the double meaning of _her_ words, this time.

Allie’s heart soared, then jumped out of her chest.

She would have loved to blame it on the scary snake she just pictured.

“Well, least we’re in this together…misery loves company and all.” – the flower girl punctuated her words shyly with a gentle, reassuring smile conveying _more_ than she willingly meant to display. “So…maybe the universe doesn’t suck so much?”

Bea couldn’t have missed any of it even if she wanted to.

Because she was looking now.

“Just kidding, course that guy’s an asshole, you’re stuck with me and no one else now.”

And when Allie’s eyes sparkled when she spoke in a way that was uniquely hers, lighting up everything in sight and maybe her world, too, Bea had to wonder if this is what happiness feels like.

“Worst plus-one deal ever, you should _really_ ask for a refund---”

She also happened to disagree. Because, aside from bringing her daughter into the world, maybe this, right here, right now was the only lucky hand the universe dealt her.

That’s what _this_ was….she felt _lucky_ to know Allie, to have her in her life. Anyone would be.

Because everyone else would have walked away or cursed her back with even more venomous fire after what she had the audacity to say and do.

Yet _she_ was still here. Allie was _always_ here.

“Drunk, almost falling over _and_ with subpar company…really sucks to be you, Bea—“

Bea suspected it was just what she did – be there for everyone…but she had to also wonder if anyone else would have done a shred of what Allie did for her tonight in return..

She was _so close_ to figuring out that it was, in fact, her who wanted to fill those shoes…

“Funny. Sure _you’re_ not the one who’s gonna fall, _boozy_?”

…and yet so far.

“Pffft…I am _not_ drunk.“

Famous last words from a drunk person.

“Fine.. you know…I still think _you_ have the good face, Bea …” – Allie chimed in, voicing one of her many sober thoughts with refreshing drunken honesty. ”…but I’m kinda seeing two of them right now.”

“Nerd.” – Bea fake-coughed, sheltering a half smile. “I’m not kidding, you don’t look like you can walk a straight line, Allie—“

“Still not drunk...” – Allie trailed off, then winked suggestively, slightly sticking her tongue out. “How straight are we talking?”

“Did you just…Franky Doyle me?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Bea suspected she would.  

She wasn’t wrong. 4 drinks Allie would.

“Come on, ruler of the stubborn nation..”- the flower girl’s chest vibrated with joyous laughter as she extended her arm courteously again. “Just take my hand. I owe it to Franky too, to bring you back in one piece. Plus-one duties and all.”

“Fairytale words again, oh wow, look who’s taking her job seriously.”

“Told you we deliver happiness. Mission statements, remember? I know my marketing, Bea--”

And Allie really was on a mission tonight, perhaps the most important of them all…to deliver it for her.

“Alright, fine. “ - Bea grumbled, begrudgingly as her very amused companion _tried_ to be a gentleman. “But mess with me again and I’ll—“

Emphasis on tried…Allie was already biting her lip.

“Out with it, Allie, come on, spit it out…”

“Gladly.”

….before surrendering altogether.

“You little—“

With that, Bea pursed her lips, then responded to her teasing as every mature 35-year-old woman would...

“Did you just poke me? What are you, 12?”

“That’s not even _how_ my voice sounds---“

She also _tried_ to glare…and failed.

“Okay, that was the last one. “ – the blonde chuckled again, waving the metaphorical white flag by putting her hands up in surrender. “I will behave. I promised to be a gentleman and I’m gonna, as long as you don’t puke all over my dress.“

“I have better aim than that, Allie---“

“Please not the face.” – the flower girl whined, using those same hands to cover her eyes now in pure horror. “It’s already messed up, I told ya—“

“No, it’s not…”

It was everything _but_ messed up from where Bea was standing.

It was also a thought she did _not_ mean to voice out loud.

And when their laughter came to a screeching halt yet again, for a moment, they simply… _looked_ , perhaps with a brand new set of eyes, a different lens revealing simple…  _clarity._

“… _t-that_ messed up…”

When Bea cleared her throat, breaking the tangible tension etched in just a touch of magic and wonder, Allie’s heart started to beat faster then dropped in her chest, all at once…it’s never been more vocal than now and it’s been through more challenges than it was healthy for a young heart to feel. She had no way of knowing someone else was in the same boat, drifting on the same sea.

“I-I mean there’s make-up, surgery…”

“You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?"

“It’s a skill…”

Allie had a foreboding feeling that it wouldn’t last…she had it since day one.

Because nothing ever lasted for her…

“And a curse?”

“And a curse….”

But she wanted this moment to.

It didn’t. Because they had to go back.

But Allie couldn’t. There was no turning back for her anymore.

If alcohol was the furthest thing from Bea’s mind right now, _she,_ on the other hand _,_ could use another drink. But, much like she failed all night, Allie couldn’t tear her gaze away. It still followed hers like a magnet.

Only difference? Right now, she wasn’t the only one.

“W-will you allow me to escort you back…” – Allie blinked rapidly, cleared her throat, then stuttered, nervously, struck by another electric shock to her once numb heart.…” _M’lady_?”

Because whatever shook her earlier returned full-force, her already vocal heart only getting louder now, aching even more, vibrating with pure… _yearning._

...like she never had for anyone else.

This time, her less gloomy company took her arm, unconsciously leaning into her side as they walked together, each step creating another rhythm, tethering on the edge of familiar, ever-so-slightly transcending into… _foreign._

“You’re lucky I don’t want to deal with cranky Franky married edition right now….”

Allie had to wonder if this is what love feels like.

It had to be.

“So we’re going.”

But if this is what love was….then why did it hurt so much?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some of you guys were quote unquote dying in the comments last chapter...hope this revives you? :)

All throughout their short walk back to the after party, Bea’s eyes only met Allie’s halfway, earth brown clashing against crystal blue shyly in another game of hide and seek. Each flicker of Bea’s guilty, fugitive gaze was only spelling more questions, questions she didn’t even know she had. Such as…

_Why are you doing all of this?_

_Why aren’t you mad at me?_

_Why didn’t you…leave?_

Allie already answered. She answered all night, with everything she did. From Bea’s side and her knowledge of a fractured truth, what the blonde seemed to say all along was so simple, yet so monumental at the same time….

_I’m here if you need me, but I can leave if you don’t._

Because it was far more than most people offered.

She didn’t have it in her to disrupt the soothing tranquility that settled upon them, only occasionally interrupted by the sound of synchronized steps, the click of heels against fine sand blended with the fading waves drifting aimlessly, still singing their tune, echoing faintly from behind them.

Instead, Bea enjoyed it while it lasted. She only let go of Allie’s arm with crushing reluctance once the view of the back door became clearer…

For a single treasured moment, all semblance of noise in her mind diminished into stillness, peace and comfort, everyone else’s voice so far away, not even a muffled, strained echo emerging from underneath. All she had now was the aftermath – a silence that didn’t feel loaded with pure hatred and simmering rage waiting for the smallest spark to boil over, one that didn’t demand to be filled with _anything_ , a very different type of quiet, nothing like the faux calm before a brutal storm of aches, violence and brutality that she was so accustomed to…

It was so foreign because no one’s presence brought it upon her.

It was so foreign because no one’s touch ever made her feel this way – tingling with lingering jitters, spreading all over, setting her entire body aflame.

All she had now was the lasting warmth of soft skin against hers and the lightweight of everything Allie was…because even when she wasn’t saying anything, something about her presence seemed to drown the chatter, make it ring less… _hurt_ less.

She hadn’t realized how much chaos she had inside of her…

Until Allie showed her real solace and serenity.

She hadn’t realized what a storm she was…

Until Allie brought her to the shore.

She didn’t know how much she craved it until now….

But she was too afraid to ask for it to last more, ask _her_ to make it last. And maybe that’s why, at the precise moment she let go of Allie, perhaps in more ways than just one, the spell they were under got lifted almost cruelly. The sight of the door ahead felt like an omen – the taller it stood, the more it brought them down to Earth.

“Ladies first…”

Bea cleared her throat, as Allie withdrew slowly, then stepped back courteously, allowing her to walk in first…she had a promise to stay true to - be a model plus-one _and_ gentleman. That happened to include flawless manners.

“You know, you’re making it sound like I’m 50—“

“Aren’t ya?”

And the flower girl _almost_ got it right.

“Ouch…”

…until Bea kicked her lightly in the shoulder to steer her the right way.

“Got it, never assume a lady’s age….”

Lesson learned.

Allie pretended to be wounded (more like devastated), intentionally trailing behind, a cheeky smile plastered on her face. The closer she got to the door, however, the more it faltered into something else. She felt oddly weak and wobbly on her feet, too. And she couldn’t blame it solely on the one too many she had all night.

She knew what it was.

_Could you maybe…do that for me?_

_Do what?_

_Hold me._

Because it wasn’t the first time she felt it…or the first time _she_ made her weak.

The blonde found herself fixing her hair and her posture with restless, nervous gestures, maybe out of a growing, unconscious need to keep her hands busy, to stop herself from reaching out to her again…

Because she was seeing it now, down to the last detail.

And it was _her_ strangled, pleading voice whispering _“Wait….”_

It was her stopping Bea at the very last moment, her hand falling upon hers over that cursed door knob, urging, asking or maybe freezing her altogether…

She was the one grabbing Bea by the wrist and turning her around…

She was the one pushing her hard against that door with spiraling urgency and unchained desire… leaving her with nothing to hold on to but Allie herself…

She was the one pressing her lips to hers in reckless abandon, turning shallow exhales into gasps and whimpers that spelled her name, much like Bea stole her last breath since the day they met…

She was the one brushing her tongue against her bottom lip, begging for entrance, tracing the line of her jaw with one hand and every last one of her curves with the other…

It was her igniting every erratic heartbeat, pulling every choked, needy moan from Bea’s lips, her touch making her shudder and writhe underneath her fingertips…no one else’s.

Because Bea was hers….and no one else’s.

By now, she wasn’t hearing any chatter from inside anymore…all she had was the tremor in her limbs down to her core, the sound of hushed breaths mixed together and the image of their lips moving against each other hungrily, taunting her, urging her...

She sighed quietly, wrestling with herself in a futile effort to ban the images of _that_ night from her mind and every last one of her cruel fantasies now with all the strength and restraint she held.

_I don’t get scared easily…_

_Come here…._

It didn’t work. Not by a long-shot.

Because she wasn’t just thinking about it, she was reliving it….with a much different aftermath. And it was a heart wrenching show that only brought on even more heart-wrenching clarity.

Because maybe _she_ wasn’t scared that night.

But Allie _was_.

She was scared of the end she always saw coming, an end to something that hadn’t even started. She was witnessing it clearer than ever now. In spite of everything she just saw and the alcohol still swirling in her brain, neither stopped its painful rationality. Her mind was now made up. 

_Be a good plus one._

That was Allie’s mission for the day and she was deadset on not straying from it.

_Let her go._

That was the second, much harder mission of the day, one she seemed to struggle with endlessly. Because her brain got the message, loud and clear, from the very first day. Her heart wasn’t so quick to follow.

This time, however, it would.

Allie shook her head to re-focus, when Franky’s all knowing, smug self scanning her like a hawk graced her field of vision. Her expression soon twisted into a dorky, giddish smile, as the bride fully turned to watch the pair walk in, their impromptu presence interrupting her passionate speech. The flower girl ran a hand down the back of her neck awkwardly, then shot a brief nod at the expectant, yet oddly intrigued crowd following their every move like a brand new spectacle of colors.

For a moment there, everyone seemed to follow the bride’s gaze, putting them on the spot. Bea happened to hate attention of any kind, it only made her feel uneasy…if it wasn’t for Allie’s gentle, reassuring smile captivating her for a single second, rendering everything else suddenly less important.

It was all smoke and mirrors now.

Nothing felt heavy anymore…it was weightless.

Or maybe, just maybe… _she_ was.

It wasn’t the first time tonight she found herself looking for Allie in the crowd when she needed _something_ to keep her steady on her feet. Bea was starting to realize that maybe Allie was grounding her far more than anyone else ever did. And maybe that made her a lot more important to her than she thought. But she still didn’t know the real reason why…all she knew was that, right here, right now, she was grateful to her. And maybe there were no right words to express that, no matter how much she ached to.

She simply returned the gesture with a vibrant smile of her own.

Allie burned that to memory.

But not because _she_ made her smile...but because Bea seemed happy.

Happiness belonged on her. She deserved it more than anyone else, with anyone of her choosing, even if that would never be her.

Allie loved her enough to let her go.

“Now that everyone’s here…including the fashionably late….” – Franky cleared her throat, matching her words with a suggestive wink, then stared back to the awaiting crowd. “My wife and I have an important announcement to make. Since everyone is at our wedding, we make the rules. And I asked Gidge, we’d like another toast. Watch out, unlucky one, you’re up after Maxie and Boomer and that’s a tough act to follow.”

“Yeah, that’s right, good fucking luck topping that—“

The bride grinned wildly at Boomer’s excited (and unpolished) intervention, then resumed her speech.

“Why do we want another toast? Well, I have a very special someone in mind….” – the hazel-eyed woman trailed off on purpose, building the anticipation. A drum roll echoed from the band, followed by Franky wiggling her eyebrows at her unsuspecting best friend who seemed to be miles away from here…

”Red….”

Now awake, dread-filled best friend.

“You’re off the hook, don’t get your panties in a bunch, just kidding.”

Now relieved best friend with even more plans for murder to add to her extensive _“Franky’s doom”_ list.

“I promised her no speeches and given how gracefully she helped put all of this together, I’ll let it slide. Already know you love me, girl, call me later. “

Franky punctuated her words by pretending to hold a phone to her ear, then bit her tongue indecently, receiving a pointed glare from Bea and a playful punch in the shoulder from her… _wife_. And when she turned around, the whole crowd gasped in surprise. Because in one swift motion, Franky grabbed Bridget by the waist and kissed her spectacularly, swaying her around like a dancer, causing the entire room to swoon.

They all heard it - Franky said it with a lot less fire than before. Maybe it was a sign that she was finally settling down.

“Fuck, I can’t even say that convincingly anymore. I am officially whipped and I don’t even care. Wow. I need a minute, this is like…the end of an era for me.”

The crowd roared with laughter…because the bride seemed almost mournful. If she had any crocodile tears left, they’d probably fall.

“Anyways…” – she shook her head comically, switching her attention back to the task at hand, one only she knew, part of another plan she won’t let go of even if it killed her. “There’s someone else I had in mind…”

If anything, everything she just witnessed tonight only made her resolve stronger.

“Someone else who helped put all of this together and literally did wonders for me and Gidge tonight. But first, let me just say this – my best friend, along with everyone here hated my plus-one rule but there’s a reason for that, beautiful guests. We wanted everyone to feel the love tonight, in any way, not just me and Gidge. I don’t care if you brought your friend or your lover or your kids or your dog. And who better to make the next toast about love…. than someone who sees it every day? Flower girl, get your skinny ass up here.”

_What?_

Allie’s eyes shot up from the still full, incredibly tempting champagne glass resting on the table that she was just about to reach for with supersonic speed. Next thing she knew, the deafening roar of the crowd pierced from behind, sideways and all around her, resonating in a single voice, chanting…

_Speech._

_Speech._

_Speech._

She looked at Bea on impulse, searching for salvation in her eyes, then leaned over to whisper in her ear…

“Permission to kill her?”

She received a sympathetic, regret-filled look, instead. Bea knew better – no one got between Franky and her crazy plans, not even the good Lord himself.

“Permission granted. With the best friend seal of approval.”

At least now they _both_ wanted to murder the bride…they could join forces, form an alliance even. Allie was already warming up to the idea.

“What is she thinking?”

“Just humor her, Allie….” – the redhead whispered back apologetically, then squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. If the flower girl was nervous before, that innocent, comforting gesture did not help her situation in the slightest, only amplified it. “You….you got this.”

_You’ll do great. I trust you._

….was what Bea really wanted to say.

A long sigh escaped Allie’s much too dry lips, followed by an assault of her own teeth against those same lips, another anxious tic of hers that she couldn’t shake since childhood. Her plans for Franky’s doom would have to be put on hold, too…for now.

She begrudgingly got up from her seat, feeling the combined weight of a dozen pairs of curious eyes focused on her every move pushing down her shoulders. She gulped nervously then fixed her hair again, standing up a little straighter but not entirely steady on her feet. Because she could feel the alcohol’s delayed effects returning full-force, making her dizzy…

She really could use another drink…thank God for the one in her hand.

“Uh...Hi, everyone. I..uh..I’m Allie, Allie Novak. Not a blubbering mess, usually, but I suck at words and speeches and the bride will soon regret this. Anyway, ya might have seen me ‘round town or even bought flowers from me. I haven’t prepared anything, Franky obviously put me here on the spot to embarrass me. Which is working, by the way.” – she moved closer to the microphone, then raised her champagne glass in a smirking Franky’s direction, a few tentative giggles from the crowd filling the room. “But since that’s already happening, I will say a few words. Despite what you might think, as the flower girl you’re not always surrounded by love. More bridezillas and grumpy grooms, less fun and rainbows on an usual day. No pun intended, this is a fabulous wedding, I also have a rainbow sticker on my car so...”

“Pride, sista!” – a tall gay man cheered enthusiastically from out back, drawing all eyes and momentarily stealing her thunder. Everyone laughed out loud at the joyous, spirited interruption, including Allie.

“You know it.”– she answered back, tilting her glass in approval.

What a stark contrast to her family’s reaction when she broke that same news… the world was moving along, alright. It still didn’t make the ache in her chest any easier to bear. She wished it would have moved along sooner, when _she_ needed it, when _she_ needed someone to tell her she didn’t need to be fixed because she wasn’t broken.

At the same time, Allie wanted to kick herself over the head a little – she had to be a crowd pleaser, judging by the mixed voices carrying genuine laughter following her every word but..she also suspected people were thinking she was doing stand-up comedy or something. To be fair, it was the one thing missing from the ceremony, if you’d ask her.

That – and some rapping. She would have gladly offered her services on that front, too.

Her fears soon vanished into nothingness when she caught Bea’s warm, expressive eyes, reminding her of a home she never had but was aching for more than ever. She was silently encouraging her….and if nothing else, that brought her voice back. With a slight delay, she also registered Franky’s exaggerated whistle, followed by a massive thumbs up sign, urging her to continue.

"But Franky..or should I say Mrs. Doyle _Westfall_ now, can we get another round of applause for the happy couple….”

Hearing her name called out, the bride huffed her chest, proudly, loving to hear her new… _title._ She was basking in the sea of applause like she was born to be in the spotlight. Maybe she was.

“She got pretty close – you do see love more often on this job than most. But it’s not the kind you’d expect. It’s not what the movies tell ya and trust me, I would know, I watch all of them.”

More mixed giggles and snorts of amusement followed from the crowd then settled down, giving Allie another cue to continue. Bea was too busy chuckling alongside them to see Maxine’s all-knowing look on her. She had no idea how many stories she was hiding underneath that smile – Maxine wasn’t one of her best friends for nothing. She knew, too.

At this point, the only one in the room who didn’t know was…Bea.

And Allie.

Because Bea never said a word.

“No, it’s…it’s losing sleep to get all the details right for your wedding because you know your future wife is worth all the effort…” – Allie’s solemn, wistful look followed the brides, prompting Bridget to lay a sweet kiss on her wife’s lips, their soulful eyes glistening with tears of affection.

“It’s being maid of honor even if you hate weddings…because you love your best friend that much….” – the blonde added tenderly, staring back at Bea with lingering tears of her own now, building just below the surface. All throughout, a boastful Franky was sending a heart-shaped frame her best friend’s way, then a call-me gesture…but Bea didn’t see a thing.

She was only looking at Allie.

“It’s that..proud smile on a mom’s face when she picks the biggest bouquet for her daughter’s graduation. It’s the teenager who doesn’t have a clue about flowers but still spends half of his summer job money on the most expensive ones for his prom date….”

And when Allie’s speech faltered, as she swallowed hard, then paused to find her voice again, Bea stood frozen in place, watching in a mesmerized haze. Because Allie seemed to be going further and further away from here. Her eyes were now firmly fixated on a neutral point in the crowd, somewhere far ahead…but her mind seemed to be in a completely different place altogether.

Bea recognized the look…and it drew her to another place, too, like hypnosis.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from her.

“It’s spending half of your life surrounded by flowers and then….seeing someone walk in and realizing they’re more beautiful than every single one of them.”

It could’ve been the words themselves or simply the manner in which they were spoken, with nothing but _truth_ lulling everyone around into a quiet moment of reflection. Because there was not a single pair of eyes that wasn’t at least a little glazed over now, not a single heart that wasn’t pounding a little faster…some glanced to their side, holding their loved one’s hand tighter, friends hugged and ruffled each other’s hair playfully while others whispered hushed _“I love you’s”_  to each other in between Allie’s words.

Franky was right all along…

Her plan was now complete. And no other person could have helped her bring it to fruition. Because this day was never meant to be solely a celebration of her love for Bridget and Bridget’s love for her….

It was meant to be a celebration of love itself.

By the time the blonde picked her scattered thoughts apart and realized the double meaning of what she said, it was much too late to take it back. The damage was already done…and her eyes had already unconsciously sought Bea’s for a split second as she did.

But maybe she did not want to take it back.

Because this was her coded love letter…and her goodbye, all at once…

“I think there’s a bit of love in all of that. And I don’t think it’s something you choose, it just happens, but once it does..that’s when you make your choice – to stick through everything with that one person.”

While Allie was letting go, Bea was holding onto her for dear life…and not even knowing it. She was breathing in her every word and gesture, seeing her and _only_ her now like everyone around had suddenly vanished into thin air, like she had just been introduced to the 7th wonder of the world after living in a glass house her entire life.

“And tonight, we witness two people who made that choice. I haven’t known Franky and Bridget for too long and it’s obvious that they’re the exception, not the rule…” - this time Allie did catch Bea’s awestruck gaze on her. She didn’t turn away. It was much too late for that. So she held it, instead, her lips curving upwards into a tender, revealing smile meant just for her…

“But they make us all believe in the exception.”

Because what Allie was really saying was…

_You’re my exception._

But Bea had no clue she was talking about her…or, better yet, talking _to_ her…

All she knew was that Allie’s never looked more beautiful.

“To Franky and Bridget…” – the blonde raised her glass again, switching her attention back to the newly-weds. “May your love last way longer than all the white roses in this room. Which will last the entire night, for the record, I made sure of it.”

Another loud round of applause followed, blended with quiet laughter and a touch of… _hope._ Allie nodded graciously, then stepped back from the microphone, allowing the lead vocalist to take her place. The music started playing again and all guests scattered around to dance, mingle or even make-out with each other with a little more heat than before…because some were a little _too_ animated by the flower girl’s words and they were…seizing the day.

Allie was just about to seize the opportunity, too and go for the proverbial dine and dash when Bea approached her, seemingly out of nowhere, followed by a Franky she did not even see, hot on her tail.

She fidgeted ever-so-slightly, shyly facing Allie, looking at her now with nothing but wonder, like she had just discovered a brand new person…maybe she had.

She wanted to say so much more, starting with…

_You looked so beautiful up there._

And ending with….

_Whoever she is, she’s lucky…._

But all that came out was…

“Nice speech, _John Green_.”

Not even close….

“T-thanks, it sucked. Cheers.” -  Allie stammered out sarcastically, averting her gaze, then gulped down all the champagne in her glass in under one millisecond.

She had to have broken some kind of a record.

_No, it didn’t._

“Damn, goldilocks...”- Franky’s intervention cut through the thick tension like a sledgehammer. The bride then proceeded to steal the scene and ruin the moment even more when she patted Allie on the back, causing her to choke on that remaining liquid. “Wouldn’t have pinged ya for someone with…feelings…”

Allie coughed some more, her expression morphing into an icy glare.

“Get your flowery ass over here and show the bride some love.”

The blonde had no time to react, not even as much as blink. Next thing she knew, Franky was engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug, lifting her entire frame off the floor in one smooth swing, almost effortlessly.

An amused Bridget watched on, as Bea smiled fondly. Franky might be a hugger on a regular day…but she rarely hugged anyone like that. Bea knew what it meant - Allie was officially branded part of the family now.

“T-thanks, _Amy Joined-house_. “ – Allie stuttered awkwardly, an overly affectionate Franky still squishing her. “I could say the same for you.”

Bea chuckled - because only she’d laugh at everything Allie said.

Because the florist happened to be hilarious and she appreciated good humor, of course.

“Need I remind you what cherished event you are currently attending?” – Franky added, using probably all the formal words she had in her vocabulary in one sentence. “I was gonna say I’m glad you’ve proven me wrong, blondie. I almost cried, bitch, and I haven’t cried since--”

“What my _wife_ is meaning to say is…..that was a very beautiful speech, thank you for giving it to us, Allie.” – Bridget cut in, snaking her arm around her obnoxious…. _wife,_ the stark contrast between their vocabulary almost giving the blonde whiplash. Maybe opposites did attract, after all.

Franky was now rendered, for lack of a better term… _speechless_. Because she was someone’s wife now. The image was endearing enough to make everyone stand back and marvel…including Bea.

If only she knew she was looking at a particular someone in the exact same way.

“Of course, of course...my moon and my stars…”

Bea and Allie rolled their eyes at the same time…because even their annoyance was linked together…

“Feels nice to be the exception, huh…?”  

“Yeah it does, baby.”

The newly-weds kissed passionately again, too lost in their own little world to notice how tense the atmosphere around them still was…Allie skimmed the walls, pretending to study the fine architecture of the ceiling, but not even fly Allie could help her escape the crushing awkwardness.

Bea was _still_ only looking at her….

“I meant what I said...you’re lucky to have each other.” – Allie eventually interrupted the lovebirds, clearing her throat. It still didn’t make the sudden lump stuck in there go away. “Anyways, I really should go, ladies. I’ve seriously extended my stay here, I’m not exactly family—“

“Yeah, you are.” – Franky chipped in with an aggravated voice, halfway releasing Bridget’s frame and very reluctantly so. “I just crushed your ribs, that’s like initiation, blondie. Come on, don’t be a killjoy too, least humor me with a slow dance!”

“No can do, I…uh..” – Allie turned to Bea with superhuman efforts…”Made a promise.”….before averting her gaze.

“And there goes Red, stealing my joy on this sacred day, to go with the other 364.”

“Oh, shut your mouth, Doyle.”

“Doyle Westfall for you now, _Cruella_ —“

“You’re still asking for that black eye, aren’t you? More than happy to deliver—“

“I uh…need some air. “- Allie’s low, brittle voice broke them apart. “Congrats again, you two. And thanks for the invite.”

The flower girl bowed down to the happy couple, then walked through the first door she saw with a heavy heart and an even heavier conscience…not before grabbing another drink on the way from a passing waiter. Bea cast a worried, conflicted look to her back, seemingly reconsidering…..

Before walking in the opposite direction.

This time, Franky quite literally saw red.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, _Nightmare On BFF Street_?”

She stomped her foot, latching onto Bea with a rough grasp.

“What?”

Bea yanked her hand away, glaring back.

“Why aren’t you chasin’ her..?”

_Like she’s done for you all night, moron._

“She _just_ said she’s going out for some air so she obviously needs some space. I’m giving it to her. And I get it, anyone who has to be around you for so long would—“

Franky scoffed, crossing her arms angrily.

“For fuck’s sake—“

“What?”

”I love you….” – she breathed out calmly this time, suddenly needing to convince herself of that truth. “But allow me to rehash that with a little more emotion for your slow ass brain….”

Bea let out another sigh of irritation, her face twisting into a scowl.

“And by emotion I mean anger…for fuck’s sake, Red---“

“What’s up _your_ ass, Franky?”

“Fine…” – now the bride was breathing out even slower through her nostrils, maybe to stop herself from delivering a black eye, too. “Give her a respectful mourning period for the heart you just ripped out of her chest but then you’re going there—“

“W-what?”

After another moment’s reflection, Franky stopped her anxious, animated pacing to study Bea’s face up close again. Underneath the boiling rage and annoyance of her own, she saw something _else._ And when Bea met her with another quizzical look, she was struck by sheer disbelief….and a shocking dose of truth.

“You don’t see it….”

The bride’s blasting anger fizzled out instantly.

“Holy shit…”

Franky stared even harder, making her severely uncomfortable, all snappy comebacks in her mind fading into pure shock.

“You seriously don’t see it, do you?”

 _Unbelievable_.

“I have no idea what you’re on about right now, so if you’ll excuse me—“

Deciding she had enough of this nonsensical conversation, Bea was already taking a step forward, when Franky’s frame quite literally blocked her...

“If I didn’t like Allie, I would murder you on my wedding day, I swear. “

“Did you just call her Allie? Are you…are you drunk, Franky—“

Bea wasn’t far off…she _was_ a little tipsy. Hence why the bride was waxing poetically all over the place. This was 4 drinks Franky – she tended to have an artistic streak. Unfortunately for Bea, this version of her was still sober enough to maintain her unreal spider senses.

“If you won’t listen to your best friend, maybe you’d like to hear a professional lecture you, _Your Blindness._ “ – the determined brunette lifted a pointed finger in the air – her not-so-sober way of asserting dominance.  “Gidge, babe, come over for a second, will ya?”

With that, she ushered a very confused Bridget over, who unintentionally caught some snippets of their previous conversation. She was anything _but_ eager to get involved.

“In your beautiful, flawless and _professional_ opinion…”

Bea’s perfectly-timed eye roll followed.

“Would you say blondie has a thing for stick-in-the-mud over here?”

_A what now?_

“Franky—“

 _"Professional_ opinion, most eloquent love of my life….please?”

An intense staring contest passed between the two brides. Bridget nonverbally pleaded with her wife not to interfere and sit this one out, but Franky pressed on in firm conviction.

Because _someone_ had to.

“W-well judging by her body language alone….” – Bridget let out a prolonged sigh, then eventually turned to Bea. “I would say there are some text-book indicators of romantic feelings.“

_Romantic what now?_

“Thank you, Gidge.” – Franky bowed down enthusiastically in front of her wise lady. She had marvelous taste for a reason. “Need I remind you my girl’s a psychiatrist? And let me tell ya, she knoooows her body language--“

Bridget tried again, this time dragging her nosy wife by the arm roughly, whispering in her ear….

_Honey…what are you doing? It’s not our place to say anything._

_Go with me on this, babe, please, I’ll explain later._

No luck. _She_ would have to play ball, too.

No one could match a Doyle on a mission on a regular day…a _drunk_ Doyle on a mission, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with.

“It’s not my place to intrude, Bea. But I am trained to notice, they wouldn’t pay me otherwise.“

“Yeah, you are, babe, I can never hide anything from her, it’s a problem. Anyways, most  beautiful wife in the world.” – the brunette batted her eyelashes dreamily, planting another wet kiss to Bridget’s lips. “You’re right, thank you for approving my assessment with the power of your sexy science.”

Bea rolled her eyes to the back of her head. Unfortunately for her, in the last 3 years of knowing Franky, she had yet to find the shut-down button on her. She was too conflicted to stop and process _why_ she ached to tune out her best friend _now_ more than any other time.

“Blondie had glassy eyes for this oblivious moron all day like she worshipped her or something…doesn’t take a genius to see, some of us are just slower--”

“Still here—“

“Still not listening. Seriously, Red, get a clue.“

“You’re still on about this? Franky, come on—“

Because, in Bea’s mind, Franky’s been on about this since day one. And wrong ever since.

“And she _was_ talking about you, think about it. You may be blind but you’re a smart woman. “

Bea scoffed even more, not buying a single world. She didn’t know Allie’s romantic history…neither of them did. It was far-fetched to make any kind of assumption….she could have been taking about literally _anyone,_ she’s had hundreds of women walk through those doors….her shop was one of the busiest in Sydney.

And Bea knew that particular statistic because she looked up Allie’s shop online after her second visit. Because she had a keen interest in floral businesses and she was looking for investment opportunities, of course.

“So..someone had a lot to drink tonight….”

Probably everyone…

“You think a lot of special, beautiful people walk in her shop, Red? You seen the faces on those brides? You and I were the hottest and most memorable of the bunch, believe me. And she wasn’t talking about me cuz she knew Gidge would vaporize her, right babe? I am irresistible with this ring on my finger tho—“

“S-so what you’re saying is--“

Bea couldn’t believe she had actually entertained her best friend’s delusions for 0.02 seconds just now. But she would act the part if it got her to back the hell away.

“She was talking about _you_ , maid of idiot _,_ trust me. Don’t make me take back what I said about your smarts--”

“I uh..I should go, right?”

“Yeah, you should. I’m giving you written permission to ditch the rest of our wedding if you fix that mess. And if you need any pointers, just call me.“

“For crying out loud, Franky—“

“Go get your girl. And get some, Red, it’s what the good Lord wants! Praise Jesus—“

Bea turned away, seemingly ignoring Franky’s overly enthusiastic (and suggestive words) following her every move. The fact that they were still ringing in her head long after the noise died down and the blush steadily creeping up her cheeks told a very different story.

With her mind now made up, she ran a hand through her hair then followed Allie outside, against all impulses to the contrary. The blonde seemed to be seeking solitude, the last thing she wanted was to go against her wishes or disrupt that in any way. At the same time, Allie was also acting peculiar, drinking a little too much for her not to want to… _drown_ something. And Bea was too concerned to simply ignore it.

When she found her, it was precisely what she was still doing.

Bea’s heart pounded almost painfully, then steadily dropped in her chest.

_What’s going on with you?_

“And she drinks....”

Her mouth, on the other hand, was _still_ verbalizing the opposite….

“I knew you had it in ya.”

She aimed to sound sarcastic but it came out sympathetic, etched in a foreign tenderness she never reserved for anyone else.

“Funny. I didn’t have _that_ much…”

Allie was lying. And even from that angle, without seeing her face clearly, Bea knew.

“…Ms. 10 drinks and still standing.” – the flower girl spun her head, acknowledging her presence with a slight nod, then resumed her preoccupied staring at a single point in the distance, her shoulders tensing ever-so-slightly. “I don’t usually drink, anyway.”

“Yeah, me neither.” – Bea sighed back, hesitantly moving closer. “Unless I have something on my mind.”

Allie _almost_ managed a smile. It was unreal how alike they were.

Maybe this was what having a soul mate felt like…even when she wasn’t hers.

Or maybe she was still watching too much television.

“Must’ve had a lot tonight, huh?”

_You have no idea._

“Guess you could say that.”

“Anyways, all those times before I…I was joking. “ – Allie drew circles in the sand with her right arm absentmindedly, discarding her glass altogether. “I’m not alcohol’s biggest fan. Daddy dearest wasn’t on his best behavior when he was around it, slammed even more doors, threw even more slurs than usual so…just brings back some unpleasant stuff.”

It wasn’t lost on Bea that most times Allie drunk tonight were, more or less, because of her – one because Franky rattled Allie…about her, two after the speech Franky was so adamant was about her, too…

But it couldn’t be.

_Could it?_

“I’m sorry, Allie.”

At this point, she didn’t know what she was sorry for…the most.

She also had no idea Allie's real drink count was a lot higher....it was up to 6 now.

“You gotta stop saying that. I’m a big girl, I can handle things. I’m not gonna like…break or something.”

“I know…just saying…” – Bea finally sat down next to her, searching her eyes intently, trying to get a read on her. “No one’s made of steel…you know?”

Before she could, Allie was already gazing back to the sand, resuming her previous action.

_Not even you._

_And no one should be._

Because even now, Allie was still trying to hide her pain from her with the flawless grace of a performer on a stage. She didn’t know how much Allie was _actually_ hiding….but she ached to tell her she didn’t need to perform, not for her.

“Clearly not with these arms, ‘cuz I mean...”– the flower girl’s face twisted into a disgusted (but cute) grimace as she pinched her own biceps, failing to find…. _any_ muscles. She was pretty sure the good Lord skipped her when those guys got passed around.

Bea would have laughed if she remembered how…instead she smiled, fondly. Allie was the only one who seemed to bring _that_ out of her tonight.

“Do you really want to ditch the wedding?” – she went on to ask in a caring, almost motherly tone, inching even closer.  “You made it this far in one piece.”

Her sudden proximity made Allie’s breath hitch in her throat.

“W-well it’s….it’s the last hour of it… and everyone’s….”

She stopped drawing, wiping the sand off her hands against her dress. Her downcast baby blues stayed glued to the ground.

“…family there, you know, telling stories and laughing and they’re all nice but I….I don’t…”

_I don’t have a family._

Bea knew what she really wanted to say…she was probably the only person in the world who did. It shattered her…because people like Harry were granted a family, people who didn’t deserve it in a million years…

“I don’t belong here.”

And someone like Allie was deserted by hers. Not just deserted but discarded altogether like a piece of trash meant to be disposed of and nothing else, never to be found or looked for again. If that was the unspoken, mighty order governing the world, then there was no fairness or justice in it whatsoever, no God – nothing but a grand illusion.

“I should go, it’s the respectful thing to do.”

_Please don’t go._

….was what Bea wanted and should have said, instead.

“You are practically family too, trust me. “

_You’re my family._

“They love you.”

_Who wouldn’t?_

_I love you._

Was what that same, carefully locked away part of her wanted to say even more…and still probably never would.

“You’re a terrible liar, Bea.”

“I mean it, they don’t warm up that easily to anyone.”

Because that side of her was long gone. Bea silenced it a while ago. It only materialized somewhere in her subconscious, in some instances driving her actions, at times diverting them to something else, something…. _safer._

“Suuuure.”

“Made a real impression, haven’t ya, _charmer_?” – the redhead added, bumping her shoulder, playfully.

“Oh yeah, that’s me…” – Allie drawled, sarcastically. “The friend whisperer.”

But even her conscious self knew she must’ve hurt Allie tonight, even if the real reason why was still flying over her head, even if she just dismissed _everything_ Franky said. Bridget’s professional, detached words were a lot harder to forget…however, she had a far-fetched explanation for them, too - she was just going along with Franky’s game because she loved her.

As for Allie? Bea rationalized her behavior and the underlying sadness she’s noticed in her eyes all night as – “ _It can’t have been pleasant to be around someone like me.”_

So, in her mind, it was time for damage control…she needed to make it up to Allie somehow, show her that she’s sorry. The real Franky’s voice, along with voice-over Franky’s voice were both lost in a puff of smoke somewhere now….because if she hadn’t managed to silence them so far, she was hell-bent on doing it now.

She had gotten to the point where maybe she could accept that _she_ had conflicting feelings for Allie…

But Allie couldn’t have feelings for her.

She just… _couldn’t._

Anyone _but_ her.

“I know I can’t stop you…” – Bea trailed off, then exhaled softly. “Or change your mind about that so I won’t even try.”

Allie’s eyes shot up from the ground, hesitantly connecting with hers...

"But you’re also not going anywhere without me.”

It was about as close to _Please don’t go_ as she could manage. She just hoped Allie would read between the lines.

“You’re my plus-one, remember?”

She didn’t. So, Bea tried again, this time grabbing her hand gingerly, lacing her fingers with hers. She wouldn’t stop trying even if it was the last thing she did.

Allie was too stunned to reciprocate.

“S-so if I left…that would leave you unattended, give Franky a reason to have my legs on a spear and, on top, I’d be a rude …minus-one?”

Bingo. Her deductive skills were still on point.

“….and I distinctly remember someone saying she was a gentleman…might know her, blue eyes, decent looking blonde hair thanks to me, really and I mean _really_ skinny arms—“

“Joke’s on you, Bea, I’m not offended.”

Famous last words from the offended ones.

“No one complained about ‘em before and you should know they carried plenty of ladies--“

With that, Allie smugly crossed her twig arms, then pouted like a child.

“Sure they didn’t carry you?”

Allie’s convoluted brain may have just conjured up another image that should’ve come with a warning. Given the context, it wasn’t far-fetched…but it was still painful. Another wedding.  Bea carrying _her_ bridal-style.

She looked to her empty champagne glass again. Forget whatever she said about alcohol – she would love a gazillion more glasses right about now – intravenously, preferably.

“Ha-ha. Anyways, I’m down with a change of plans, if you are. Think long and hard before you say yes, you might not like what I have in mind—“

And that previous image may have slipped into her speech, too…

“Say yes?”

Allie’s mouth hung open in a faint gasp.

“T-that’s not what I meant—“

Bea had to bite her bottom lip to stifle a chuckle.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t ya? Payback for the _‘I do”_ thing?”

“I will not admit to anything.”

“And she’s stealing my lines and using them against me again, _unbelievable._ “ – Allie grumbled, indignantly, crossing her arms even more. “You know, Bea, you could use your own words sometime.”

“Yours are better.”

_Bullshit. Mine ruin everything._

“You’re still messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know?”

The blonde rolled her eyes….for the sake of her fragile ego, she would assume that was meant as a compliment.

“Sure you wanna ditch the wedding with me?”

“Yeah, already got Doyle to let me off the hook. Lead the way… _m’lady_.”

“And a smile. “ –  Allie gasped, then used that same hand to cover her heart, feigning shock…because she  _still_ had a flair for the dramatic. “Pretty sure it’s mocking me right now but I’ll choose to ignore that.”

Bea _thought_ she managed a glare…

“Jeez, Bea, took you long enough—“

But her smile stayed intact…perhaps spread out even more.

“Don’t make me change my mind. “

So did Allie’s.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Drunk Allie is fine art and I need her opinion on everything in life.

Allie’s grand plan for post-wedding fun with the woman she loved at 12 AM under the starry night sky was….not what you’d have in mind.

“You really are a child, aren’t ya?”

“I’ll have you know ice-cream is timeless. And it’s just like flowers, makes people happy, you _Grinch_. Try it.”

An angelic chuckle escaped Allie’s lips, followed by a smug, urging look gracing her features. She unceremoniously slipped a little too much into Bea’s personal space, waiting on approval…

“Fine….”

Bea reluctantly complied, rolling her eyes.

“You’re right.”

“I know it probably killed you to say it so….”

Allie’s self-satisfied smirk followed like clockwork.

“I’m putting that in my diary, Bea.”

Point proven.

Despite a myriad of unfamiliar sensations running through her all at once, from the rapid thundering in her chest to the shallowness of her breathing when Allie moved a little too enthusiastically in making her point, a little too…. _close_ , Bea was less focused on the flavor of her ice cream and more on…something _else,_ something that _just_ dawned on her.

And the more she watched a carefree, lighthearted and, above all, _innocent_ Allie as she rambled on about her top five dessert choices, the more she realized the golden street lights engulfing her from above now paled alongside her glow. She reminded Bea of that picture she couldn’t get out of her head for days on end, one she could still see burned in her mind’s eye down to the last detail, of a much younger, but still troubled Allie.

It seemed to have been captured in a single moment of near respite blended with half-storm, a flickering light struggling to shine through in her cerulean orbs, dark pools of honest, soulful blue that have seen more tragedy than a young soul ever should, tragedy she never once deserved. This time around, however, that vibrant smile seemed to reach her eyes, too.

If only Bea knew why - Allie was looking at _her_.

That’s what made her shine a little brighter.

“I never got those health-conscious freaks. I mean I know _some_ people work-out, clearly not me, but frozen yogurt? Really, what’s that, poor man’s ice-cream? If you’re gonna have a cheat day, least walk all the way, amirite? Disgusting, Bea, I’m telling ya—“

And when Allie fully turned to her, still rambling passionately, Bea shyly beamed back, pretending to listen but not entirely…she was more focused on _watching._ Because Allie’s past words made even more sense now.

_I mean there’s lights outside, ice-cream, the beach, upbeat music, what’s not to like, huh? Everything just…comes to life._

But she couldn’t stop the steady trail of less cheerful thoughts that followed….maybe Allie found happiness in all of these small, seemingly childish things because her childhood was ripped from her hands abruptly…it could’ve been the fact that she was a mother…but she suddenly felt protective of her like never before.

Because it wasn’t fair. She should have had that. She should have had a home to come late to, someone to keep her safe and sound when the real world got too scary to face alone, not experience its horrors first hand, see the worst of it when she was just a vulnerable child, ill-equipped to handle it…not when she deserved the best.

She should have had…. _everything._

“Way to leave a girl hanging, Bea—“

Only when Allie casually leaned into her side and nudged her shoulder playfully, effectively shooting her back to Earth did she realize how quiet and pensive she became…

“Sorry, I….”

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere…” – the frown on Bea’s face that she didn’t even know took shelter there dissipated in a flash when she shook her head, dismissively, switching her focus back to Allie...present Allie scanning her like a hawk, not quite convinced. “Speaking of disgusting…. _that_ is disgusting.”

“Seriously, you’re gonna diss the classics? Mint chocolate chip? So what, you hate all good things in life?”

“It’s like eating chocolate….toothpaste.” – Bea shot another quizzical look to Allie’s ice-cream, still not understanding the appeal, before turning back to hers. Because caramel swirl was a marvelous pick.

“ _And_ loving it.” – Allie said in between not-so-graceful mouthfuls. Because whatever touch of sobriety she still held was long gone…hence why half of the ice-cream ended up on her face, more specifically right above her beauty mark.

An enthralled Bea _almost_ reached to wipe it away, on instinct…

“L-like a psycho….”

When Allie did the job herself….

“So, uh....”– Bea cleared her throat awkwardly, her gaze lingering on that beauty mark a little too long to be _casually_ observing. “This your happy place?”

“Present company excluded?”

Same Bea now looking down at the pavement, blushing like a schoolgirl…

“One of them, yeah…”

Because not only was it her happy place… Allie chose to share it with _her_ specifically…of all people. If only she knew it wasn’t the first time Allie did. But much like her…Allie didn’t say a word then, either.

“What’s yours?”

_Present company excluded?_

_Something_ inside of her nearly blurted that out on its own accord…when she faltered, drowned it and stopped it at the very last second. She couldn’t say it. Even if Allie did make her happy, even if being here with her felt like the right place to be.

Because she still didn’t know where those words came from…but they _couldn’t_ be hers, could they? By this point, she was rapidly running out of excuses. Because, for this single blissful moment, everyone else’s voice in her head was gone…

No voice-overs, no Harry…no one.

So if they weren’t hers…whose were they?

“Anywhere with my daughter.”

A safer answer…

“I’m sorry, I…I know you miss her.”

“Yeah…I do..” – Bea exhaled, heavily. “Can you believe it’s only thanks to her that I can tell you what a quote unquote clear mezzo-speaking voice you have? Yeah, Debbie’s singing lessons rubbed off on me. I could listen to her talk about her interests all day, she just gets that…glint in her eye.”

The same one Allie had. Right about now.

If only she knew her eyes mirrored hers.

“Lemme guess…yours is the alto, right? Low…” – the flower girl trailed off huskily, making a deliberate pop sound with her lips. “And sexy?”

On second thought…maybe Allie was… _really_ drunk.

“….contralto? Because that one’s even lower…raspier…”

_Hotter…_

“Sounds like ya---“

“Wait, how do you know—“

“Pffft…I know my mmmusic, Bea. “ – Allie proclaimed boastfully, her hazy eyes still twinkling with their usual spark. “I sing in the shower, I’m practically an expert. I’m an expert at _a lot_ of things, y’know.”

As expected, the double meaning flew right over Bea’s head like an arrow that graciously missed its target. And you’d think spending all that time with Franky would have taught her to recognize innuendo from a mile away.

Lesbian Casanova had the cutest, clueless sidekick, if you’d ask Allie…

“You know she uh….she wants to make me less musically challenged and I try. For her. But sometimes I swear I can’t keep up—“

What were the kids even into these days?

“When in doubt, just say…– Allie sighed, dreamily, then pretended to write on air with an invisible marker. “Aguilera. She’s…everyone’s cup of tea. I mean, between you and me, I wouldn’t mind a private concert from her, if you know what I—“

Bea may or may not have blushed all the way down to her toes. Because this was the first time she’s seen or heard Allie get like this over…. _anyone._

“Jesus _, Franky Doyle_..”

Or so she thought.

That…and Bea suddenly hated Christina Aguilera.

“What? Don’t judge me---“

“I’m not.”

“Your face is sooo….” – the blonde squinted, waving her hand around airily…

_Blurry right now._

“Judge Judy-ing me right now—“

She still couldn’t get central focalization right. Maybe there was something in the air…

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is, _liar._ ”

“I’m not judging you.” -  Bea clarified, allowing an honest chuckle to pass her lips…because only _she_ would find Allie’s drunk antics _....adorable?_   "Just didn’t... ping you for a fangirl, that’s all.”

“Hilarious. “ – Allie slow clapped ironically, then used those same hands to prove her point with her usual lively (and wobbly) hand gestures. “Aside from my hhhorrible ex, you should know I have great taste in women, a’right?”

_That’s why I’m into you, dummy._

"Her voice is…to die for. And well, everything else, too, cause I mean….” – she _tried_ to whistle. Nope – still haven’t mastered that skill.

“Damn…” – she pretended to cool herself down with an imaginary fan, instead.

Christina Aguilera wasn’t even that…pretty. Her vocals were scratchy, too, by Bea’s completely unbiased assessment. Same Bea who was starting to wonder what was she even doing, debating attractive things about women in her head? _She_ wasn’t even into any member of the female gender…

Allie was. And apparently drunk her was even more.

“You’re really into her, huh? Posters all over the walls and everything?”

“Jealous much, Bea?”

Her passionate rant was cut short by a well-placed hit to her side.

“Ouch, why’d you kick me?” – Allie studied every inch of her face, suspiciously, batting her eyelashes like a cartoon character. “Did I hit a nerve?”

“Unbelievable…” – Bea grumbled to the sky, then blankly stared back. “I drink and _she_ gets drunk. “

“Oh no…” – Allie breezed past her remark like she didn’t even hear it, pointing an accusatory (and shaky) finger in return. “Yyyou’re _Novak-ed_ too…just like the rest of ‘em….aren’t ya?”

“The rest of them?”

“My fanclub, Bea, keep up.”

Bea suddenly ached to wipe that all-knowing smirk off her face…

“You…are….sooooo…Novak-ed.”

And muffle that rhythmic punctuation blended with sing-song in her voice…

But the flower girl had another speech to finish – slurred, animated but… _very_ important.

“Aww...it’s alright, Bea…no need to get embarrassed about it.” – she reached over to pat her head, faux sympathetically. “Happens to the best of ‘em, hard to resist all of this, you know--”

“You’re asking me to hit you again…aren’t ya?”

“Are you propositioning me right now?” – Allie fully turned to Bea, ignoring her glare. She then rolled up her sleeves clumsily and swayed just a little, ready to strike back.

“Well in that case…”– she moved closer, her voice dropping lower, no louder than a hushed murmur now…”Hit me with your best shot, _honey—“_

Bea was just about to stick to her promise of smacking her across the ribs again when her hand froze mid-air…

Soon enough, her entire body followed.

Because Allie caught it.

And she was pulling her dangerously close into foreign territory, far closer than sober Allie would ever allow. Time seemed to slow down and move faster all at once when she drew her in by the wrist, trapping that last shuddering breath in her throat. Because they were sharing the same oxygen now. Their hands touched, subdued by the magnetic energy that always lingered in the air around them, flickering, waiting for…a sign.

Maybe this was it.

And when there were no words to be spoken but so much to be told, another flash of intense electricity passed between them, holding them captive or maybe setting them free. A hushed gasp slipped past Bea’s lips on contact, ghosting over Allie’s in return, her touch burning and sending chills down her skin, all in one motion. With every passing second, Allie’s breathing seemed to turn heavier, the last shades of her teasing gaze fading into something _else_ , simmering below the surface, infinitely more charged and electric, something Bea couldn’t identify.

Because no one ever looked at her like that.

“But please... don’t hurt me too much.”

With a gentle exhale, Allie intertwined her fingers with hers, then laid a soft, chaste kiss on top of their joined hands, her gaze softening around the edges, still maintaining the intensity of before, as a hypnotized Bea watched on.

And amongst the unfamiliar darkness spreading across every shade of crystal blue staring back at her, there was a touch of lingering sadness there…one she’s seen all day, one that felt staggeringly…. _different._ Because she’s seen all traces of sadness in those orbs aside from this one. Was she the one making Allie sad?

“Promise me?”

And something about the flower girl’s foggy, but solemn expression felt like the worst stab in the gut for Bea. She didn’t know what brought it on….but hurting Allie was the last thing she would ever do. Not on purpose. She had a dreaded feeling she already had…and she didn’t know how to fix it.

 “I don’t want to hurt you.”  

It was all she could get herself to say. Her words barely evaded her clenched chest, a quiet, trembling echo in the darkness of the night, when Allie let go of her hand, switching back to her usual jolly (and drunk) self. Bea had to wonder if she just dreamed everything that passed between them.

 “….b-but you’re not exactly making it easy on me right now.”

“No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.“

Because whatever moment they shared seemed to be gone so quickly it almost felt like she imagined the whole thing. But she couldn’t have. If anything, _she_ was painfully sober.

“For the record, that was a _Veronica Mars_ reference.. for those of us who have never turned a TV on in their lives—“

This time, Bea did kick her again….gently.

“Okay, okay, that was the last one.“ – Allie…. _lied_ , readjusting her stance with a joyous fit of laughter. “Just to clarify, there was a point to that whole Aguilera thing, aside from embarrassing myself. Crush or no crush, everyone deserves a nice soundtrack to listen to growing up, you know? So I get your daughter’s obsession, it’s one of the best things to get addicted to..”

And Allie knew the worst things to get addicted to. It made Bea’s heart clench even more…but it also made it lighter. Because, at that precise moment, she was struck by another truth…

Deb would love Allie, too. Because, then again, who wouldn’t?

“Music helped me, too. Nicer sound than my dad yelling….” – the blonde cleared her throat, comically, then mocked in a manly voice. If toxic masculinity had a voice, that is….“You’re the family disappointment. In English….then Polish….then English again. Pretty sure there was some Spanish thrown in there, too. Tu eres….”

“What an asshole. “

As it turned out, Allie wasn’t the only one without a filter tonight…

“Sorry, I---“

And the fact that Bea seemed embarrassed by her own moment of forwardness only made her already contagious, toothy grin turn even wider…

_Please marry me._

“Nah, you’re right and you should say it. I would sooo ddddrink to that. ” – Allie raised an imaginary glass of champagne in the air. To her, it was probably about as real as it gets. “But as you can see, I’m all out….”

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

“What. A. Shame.” – she huffed indignantly, blowing a frizzy strand of hair from her eyes. “I could have gone all night, Bea. I usually can—“

Bea shifted away, her cheeks turning rosy again.

“God—“

“I can totally hold my llliquor…wait, what did you think I meant, _perv_?”

When Allie swiftly faced her, she hid her flushed complexion even more, mumbling under her breath.

“You are so drunk, Allie..”

“Am not…”

“Yes, you are…”

“I swear on my flowers—“

“You’ll so regret saying that tomorrow…”

“I won’t regret a thing…” – Allie breathed out tenderly, her childish pout fading into a fond, warmhearted smile. She found Bea’s hand again, giving it a light squeeze, then let go before she could even react. “You’re here with me.”

“I-I don’t see how that’s gonna help anything…” – the redhead stammered, the slight tremor in her voice not lost on a certain smirking blonde. “Unless you plan on puking all over me.”

“I’ll have a nice view before I pass out…”

“Someone needs glasses…”

“T-that would be….” – Allie squinted, failing to draw out the blurriness from her vision again, then motioned to Bea’s… general vicinity. “You.”

“I won’t let you pass out, Allie, I don’t have my camera.”

“Take a picture with your third eye, then, it’ll last longer, Bea.”

Bea rolled her eyes….those currently residing on her face, of course.

“I actually meant that as a compliment just now, you know…”

“Hmmm?”

Next thing she knew, Allie was reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear shakily, her index finger following the curve of her jaw painstakingly slow, with that same wild fire from before blazing in her eyes. All she heard was a quiet sigh in her ear, followed by….

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Bea’s mouth opened and closed, no words coming from her lips, as she focused on those before her, wondering if the words had really passed them…but they did, and they were spoken so _earnestly,_ charged with nothing but raw, gentle conviction….

“Shit… I just got brain freeze.”

So were these ones.

“It hurts, Bea—“

Aaand….moment over.

“Think it’s the ice-cream. “ – Allie retreated her hand, bringing it up to her throbbing head. “Why do I do this to myself? I do not make wise decisions.”

_You don’t say…_

“It’s not the ice-cream…” – Bea rubbed her back comfortingly, stifling the giggle on the tip of her tongue. “It’s called an alcohol headache, _silly._ It’ll pass. You really don’t get drunk often, do you?”

“No…not really.”

_Then why did you drink so much tonight?_

She was _so close_ to asking….

“Hey, Bea, can I tell you a ssstory?”

When an overly excited blonde interrupted her…because she was still anything _but_ tongue-tied.

“I have a feeling you’ll do it anyway.”

“It involves me suffering, you’ll love it.”

With that, Allie placed one hand over her exposed shoulder, giving it a light caress, then rested her cheek on top like a lazy cat. She then pointed far ahead enthusiastically with the other... because tour guide was on her extensive skill list, too.

“See that house over there?”

Bea drew in a sharp breath, the sudden skin-on-skin contact sending chills down her spine. Allie was too excited to notice…if anything, she seemed to shift even closer. Because whatever inhibitions she had left flew out the window a couple glasses back.

“W-what about it?”

“Looks just like my first girlfriend’s house. Yeah…I broke my leg climbing out of her room…young Allie had gaaaame, Bea.”

Allie _tried_ to whistle again…still no luck.

“Oh really….what happened to her?”

“If I didn’t like my women being mean to me….” – Allie grumbled, her head peering back up from Bea’s shoulder as a pointed glare set in her eyes.  “I’d kick you, too.”

“I’m shaking right now.”  - Bea mocked in her usual dry, unimpressed tone.

 _Now_ Allie was offended. She smirked devilishly, dropped her voice as low as it could go, then murmured seductively in Bea’s ear…

“I can always warm ya up, y’know....”

Same Bea now frozen in place...because the blonde’s hot breath grazed her neck, followed by a feather-light, albeit unintended touch of lips on her collarbone, spreading blasting fire from her ears down to her toes..

“Just say the word and I’m all yours, _baby_ …”

That sultry, gravelly rumble in her voice did not help either…

Bea shuddered, then swallowed hard..

“Jesus, Allie—“

And this time, Allie saw.

Her ego couldn’t fit through a million custom doors right now.

“See? I still got it, Bea.” – she proclaimed, smugly, retreating just a little. “But nice try.”

“W-what’s _it_ , again?” – Bea fidgeted, nervously, clearing her throat. “Alcohol poisoning?”

“Ha-ha.”

“So….what happened to her?”

“Her parents found out and they were….not happy. Told my dad, dad kicked me out and the rest is history.” – the blonde rehashed with heartbreaking, detached nonchalance…like it was no big deal. “Oh and get this, I heard she’s married now. It’s sad, actually…”

“What is?”

“That after all these years, she’s still not herself. She thinks she has to be someone else. Do the whole husband, kids, white picket fence thing….”

“I’m sorry…”

“Yeah…me too. “ – Allie exhaled, softly, her eyes shifting away from the house ahead to the floor below. “But I think it can be good, too…”

“What exactly?”

“Marriage.” – her gaze shot up, as Allie faced her again with another light smile, not missing Bea’s strained one in response... “For some people. My best friend, Ruby? Yeah, she went from living on the street to working in one of the biggest corporations in the country, getting the house, the girl and everything….think I’ll have another wedding to go to, soon.”

“Or plan…”

“Might forgive her for ditching me for pantsuits if she lets me plan it. Between you and me, Bea, no one’s better at it, I checked---”

Bea happened to agree.

“So modest…”

“Modesty is overrated.”

It didn’t take a genius to see Allie already narrowing down on floral arrangements in her head…her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Bea’s followed, almost on cue. She didn’t know it yet…but Allie’s happiness was _her_ happiness, too.

“Sounds like Franky, you know. She didn’t have it easy, either…”

“I had a feeling she didn’t. That’s why she’s your friend too, right?”

“Part of it, yeah….I didn’t choose her for the charm, obviously.”

“Oh yeah, she has no charm.” – Allie flashed her hand around, laughing in approval. “But I think people who’ve seen a lot of life have the best stories to tell…when they’re drunk, too, probably.”

“Like…some of us right now..” – Bea fake-coughed.

“For the last time, Bea, I am not—“

"I’m not kidding, you do look a little….green.”

“I’m fiiiiiiiine.”

Famous last words from anyone who’s definitely… _.not_ fine.

“Please not the dress…just puke on the floor, Allie.”

“If I try hard enough... “  - the blonde pondered out loud, rising to her own challenge. “I can make that look sexy, just you wait.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

" _Correction –_ a famous idiot.”

A very important distinction.

“Famous?”

“My fanclub, Bea, keep up already…”– Allie’s voice wavered on purpose, followed by a smug grin. “And you loooove it….wanna know why?”

“You’ll tell me anyway, won’t you?”

“Because yyou are sooooo Novaked, just like the rest of ‘em. Get in line, Bea--”

“I swear to God, Allie—“

“Both of you are.”

“Both?”

“Think I’m seeing two of you again.“

Allie squinted comically once more like the woman-child she was, hovering over that park bench, dangerously close to falling over and kissing the pavement below…

“Okay…okay, _boozy_..”

When Bea steadied her, swaying a gentle, protective arm over her shoulder…

“Please don’t fall…”

“Too late for that.”

Speaking of double meanings…

“For the record…”

“Not the shoes, Allie, I’m begging you….”

“They’re both beautiful.”

With a soft sigh, Allie snuggled closer, chasing the familiar warmth of her body. She rested her head in the crook of her neck and her ear against Bea’s pulse point, listening to every echo of her thundering heart, the déjà-vu of their current position not lost on either of them. And when Bea made no effort to stop her, she settled there even more, allowing a moment of comforting silence to shelter them both, carry them further and further away from here, to another place only they knew. For minutes on end that felt like hours, neither said a thing, they simply focused ahead, on the horizon line, tracing the same stars, breathing the same air. Even from that angle, Allie could feel Bea turn warmer against her…she was pretty sure she was blushing, too.

_I still got it indeed._

“You were right, you know. “

For once, it was the low vibration of Bea's raspy, yet melodic voice breaking the magical quiet..

“Hmmm?”

“About your shoulders. They really are soft.”

Bea could feel her lips curving into a smile against her collarbone, too.

And when she did the same…somehow Allie knew, because she didn’t need to see it, either.

“I have never done a single push-up in my life and I intend to keep it that way.” – the enchanted blonde mumbled drowsily against her frame, on the verge of falling asleep again. But if that was how she’d fall asleep, she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up anytime soon.

“Told ya I never work out.”

“Maybe we should change that.”

Speaking of double meanings….

This time around, something did flash across Bea’s eyes, a brief hint of… _.realization_ … and Allie couldn’t stop that massive grin from taking over every inch of her face even if she tried. Because she suddenly felt like a proud momma – _she_ got it. And the fact that Bea got so embarrassed by it only fueled the slow-burning fire in her chest, like she just poured gasoline on top.

She wanted to kiss her…

“I mean I….I didn’t use to do it either…”

She _still_  believed she had no right….

“But I…I guess I just needed a place to feel strong, you know? After..”

Now Bea was sharing one of her happy places with Allie..and not even realizing it. Because that’s what the gym was to her, one of the few places _he_ didn’t touch…

And when her body tensed up ever-so-slightly, the flower girl did let go..

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me.”

….but only to clasp her hand onto hers, tight enough to urge her to continue if she so desired, but gentle enough to let her know that she could stop at any time.

“No, I…I want to.”

Like everything Allie did tonight, _that_ kept her together.

“Long story short, Harry was a bastard...who ruined our lives. He got me pregnant when I was really young, he…he thought I arranged that on purpose…I…I had to marry him in front of everybody, his family was…traditional, mine went through with it because…they never really cared about me either after that, think they just…wanted the problem off their hands, too.”

The more Allie listened, the _angrier_ she became…so much so she could feel her blood boiling, cursing through her veins, setting her aflame. Bea’s fragile words seemed to sober her up right then and there.

“He was abusive, he…but only to me, he never touched Debbie, I would have killed him. The only reason he’s in jail now is because Franky build a case against him, took photos, evidence..she knows a thing or two about these things. The justice system wouldn’t have done jackshit otherwise—“

By now, Allie’s left hand had balled into a fist by her side and her jaw clenched tight….Bea was pretty sure she didn’t even notice, but she could feel every last shade of her rage radiating off of her.

“Fuck, Bea….”

It was all she let out through gritted teeth. A heavy moment of crushing silence followed and Bea watched in soundless awe, concern mixed with shock embedded onto every earth tone in her eyes... because she’s never seen Allie get like this. The blonde was now running an angry hand through her hair, still processing the weight of those words, her stomach twisting into painful knots.

If the alcohol didn’t make her throw up before... _now_ she could.

“I’m so sorry…” – her gaze softened, a long sigh escaping her dry lips, barely rising to the surface through her suddenly constricting airway. “If he wasn’t already in jail, I would’ve killed him with my own two hands for laying a finger on you.”

Bea couldn’t remember the last time anyone, other than Franky or Maxine reacted so.. _viscerally_ to hearing about Harry and everything he did to her. And seeing that raw fury and thirst for revenge in Allie’s eyes only made her heart grow heavy…because they didn’t belong there.

Only happiness belonged there…

“I mean it.”

She believed her. But this wasn’t Allie’s fight to be fought.

What she didn’t know was that the blonde was willing to _make_ it her fight.

“ _Those_ hands….?”

A weak, grateful smile tugged at Bea’s lips.

Allie’s anger burned to ashes.

“I’d work out just for the occasion, _nonbeliever_.”

She would. Bea’s heart could have stopped right there.

“Then you’d be in jail too and I…I can’t….”

_Lose you…_

“Least I’d find a prison wife, don’t take that away from me, Bea. Hold on, I’m picturing that--“

More accurately put - picturing her current company as her prison wife.

“Are you serious?”

The flower girl was now chuckling under her breath because she wasn’t capable of being serious for longer than 10 seconds at a time…but Bea was still frowning. Because Allie and jail in the same sentence was a horrifying string of words she’d never find amusing.

“What, don’t think I could?” - Allie pointed to herself, incredulously and arrogantly, all at once. “’ _All of this_ is wife material, a’right? Some days I can’t even leave my house, fangirls everywhere. Found one in my shower once—“

“And that made you very sad, right?”

“Devastated….she used up all my hot water, Bea—“

Bea was pretty sure _only_ Allie would make light of a situation like this.

Then again, Allie tended to make light of… _everything._

“It’s not what I meant, I…is that really all you got out of…prison?”

“It’s kinda what happens in women’s prisons. I watch TV, Bea. There’s this show called Wentworth—“

“Don’t…don’t even joke about going to jail, I’m serious..”

_I don’t know what I’d do without you._

She should have said that. She wanted to. But, like so many things tonight..she left it unspoken.

“Anyways, this good friend of mine, Will Jackson, he’s a personal trainer. He got me into it, whipped me into shape, taught me to defend myself, fight back…”

Bea briefly stopped mid-speech to look at Allie. Because she recognized the signs - stifled anguish and half-healed scars in dark pools of blue staring back at her intently. Allie had to have taken a lot of beatings in the past, too.

And yet she still…delivered happiness.

Bea didn’t know why she kept returning to those words, like they were speaking to her in a whole new language, trying to tell her something _now_ that she wasn’t able to piece together _before_.

“It still doesn’t hurt less the next time it happens, though, does it…?”

“No…not really..”

“I know…I’m sorry..”

The redhead almost lost her train of thought when Allie reached over and grabbed her hand again, lacing their fingers together like puzzle pieces, running soothing circles over her skin..

“You know…they never stop. It doesn’t matter if you say no or you yell or cry or..push them away…men like that, they just…take what they want from you because they can, because they think they’re entitled to…”

Bea swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat…because the thought of _anyone_ doing that to Allie filled her with unshakeable anger all the same. The mere picture made her physically sick.

“And every single time they do…it’s like you lose something you can never get back. You say you are and the whole world believes it…but you’re never truly whole again, are you?”

Allie was so close to saying... _you fixed me, you_ _made me whole again_. She almost did…

But tonight wasn’t about her. She made a promise to herself…

“I used to let it happen, too…when I worked, told myself that it’s a job, they’re just roughing me up now, some are into that…but it wasn’t just that…it was a game of power and they wanted to win…and I let them.”

Bea’s heart broke in two….she could pinpoint the exact moment it fell down to the floor, ripped itself apart before its untimely collision or maybe bled out entirely. Because this was real…someone _did_ do those things to Allie…to the last person in the world who deserved it, to someone who should only be touched with grace and gentleness…like she touched everyone else.

Bea couldn’t _breathe._ She could’ve killed whoever hurt Allie with her own hands, too.

“I used to think that made me weak but I was wrong, it was the opposite.” – Allie faced her again, sensing her inner turmoil. With a single reassuring smile, she chased her demons again, knowing what she needed without a single word…as always.

Hands still linked together, Allie’s fingers brushed against her skin following a route only she knew, so cautiously…like no one else’s ever have.

“You know you are too, right?”

“I’m…what?”

“Strong…” – she whispered, earnestly, leaving no room for debating just how much she meant it.

A weak smile rose to Bea’s lips…

“You don’t need the gym for that.”

The redhead’s not entirely convinced but not fully dismissive exterior was a small victory for Allie. She’d take what she could get.

“Although… _.some_ muscle tone must be nice. I’m serious, Bea, you pack some serious guns, when you hit me, I could cry, you know—“

“Good to know, I’ll do it more often then.”

“So you do have a thing for hurting blondes, don’t ya?”

“Only those who deserve it.”

Allie rolled her eyes, playfully. When she paused to gather her thoughts again, her entire visage changed again into a serious, meaningful one, seeing right through Bea in a way that didn’t feel invasive, aggressive or forceful…for once.

“I just….wanted to say I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“You did…and it’s fine, doesn’t matter now—“

“No, it’s not.”

_And of course it does._

“I’m not gonna break or something either, Allie, it’s alright.” – the redhead tried again, almost mustering a choked, hollow laughter, sensing her need for reassurance, too.

The fact that she said it so dismissively told Allie everything she needed to know.

“No, it’s not. I want you to know you didn’t deserve it...”

Bea was hearing her speak, but not… _listening._

“Allie—“

So she latched onto her shoulders, forcing her to _see_ it, instead.

“No matter what you think. No one deserves that. And you didn’t do anything wrong.”

 _He_ used to say she did everything wrong..

 _She_ only seemed to see the right….

“It’s fine, Allie..” – Bea looked down, fidgeting with her dress ever-so-slightly.

“No.”

A lump rose to Bea’s throat when Allie nearly jumped out of her skin. She shook her head frantically, her hands sliding down to her forearms, needing to prove a point…perhaps the most important of them all.

“You’re not listening to me.”

Bea could have drowned even more, as Allie tilted her chin, bringing it forward towards her, expectant ocean blue boring into her in a way that made it impossible to turn away…even if she wanted to..

“Look at me.”

If only she knew how much time she _still_ spent doing just that…

“It shouldn’t have happened to you…”

The spark that always lingered there was even brighter underneath the gentle street lights…but there was something else there giving Allie’s eyes an almost ethereal beauty now…and it was more than just firm, unwavering conviction.

“And you didn’t deserve it.”

It was love.

“Any of it.”

And maybe it didn’t demand to be explained or proclaimed for it to be felt.

Because in that moment, Bea did.

“Thank you…”

Under the weight of her gaze, she couldn't say a thing…all she could do was listen to her heart rate speeding up. Bea’s lips parted into a soft gasp as tears started swelling up in her eyes. She made no effort to stop them.

“N-no need. It’s the truth.”

Allie nodded mutely, the sight sobering her up even more. She was so focused on proving her point she only now realized she hasn’t let go…. _yet._

She promised she would. She wanted to.

But if that was the right thing to do….then why did it feel so wrong?

“Have I ever lied to you?” – Allie asked, a lot more solemnly than she realized, retreating shakily.

“I don’t know….” – Bea trailed off, seemingly catching onto…. _something._ But that guilty flash in the blonde's conflicted eyes vanished so quickly it might as well have been a figment of her imagination. “Have you?”

_Only since the day we met._

And Allie couldn't seem to make it stop...

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know?”

Check and mate.

“And she’s getting back to me now. I’m impressed…. _drunky.”_

“….As for the gym…” – the florist ignored her snarky comeback, responding with her usual, cheeky smirk, instead. “I might make an exception, join ya sometime. And by join ya I mean stand by and watch, while eating ice-cream….”

Bea studied her quizzically, visibly amused.

“Seriously, Bea, I can only lift the weight of my problems - and barely. Have you even seen _these_ noodle arms carry more than one bouquet at a time—“

“You’re such a dork.”

“Come on.” – the blonde announced, clearing her throat, the gesture failing to mask the subtle hint of regret slipping into her voice.

Next thing Bea knew, Allie was lifting herself up from the bench, dusting her dress and extending her hand courteously for her to take.

“Where are we going?”

A choked sigh slipped past Allie’s lips, so quiet to the outside world, so deafening to _her._ She could have stayed here with her, forever…but she could feel all the alcohol she drank all day loosening up her tongue..it already started to. She was petrified of what she’d say next if she didn’t slam the brakes.

“It’s getting late. Let me walk you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

It was such a simple gesture Allie was offering, one that shouldn’t mean _anything_ …but it did. Because Bea couldn’t remember the last time anyone cared enough to make sure she got home safe other than her friends.

“Nonsense, what kind of a failed plus-one would I be if I didn’t? Told you I was a gentleman, Bea. Lead the way…”

If you asked Bea, there was nothing Allie could do tonight that would end it in failure. Nothing at all. If anything, she was the one who failed her…repeatedly.

“… _m’lady_..?”

“You won’t let that go, will you?”

“Ask me again in 3-5 business days and I might have an answer.”

“Touché.”

Bea merely smiled, not nearly as stealthily as she thought.

As they strolled through the empty, half-lit streets, only animated by the sounds of the night and Allie’s quiet, almost melodic humming, they seemed to settle into that same comforting silence from before…

It was then that it hit Bea – above everything else, Allie made her feel… _safe._

Same Allie carrying an air of thoughtfulness and practiced composure now…no matter how many storms were raging inside of her, simultaneously. Bea’s eyes traveled from her face down to her body, stealing fugitive glances as she walked alongside Allie, stopping right at her hands…

And this time she _did_ notice…

Allie turning abnormally quiet and faraway, closing in on herself…it was a strange role reversal. There was peace and stillness in her mind, whilst Allie’s was still fuzzy with alcohol, still under a dizzy spell she wished she could blame on the champagne only….

Bea ached to ask what was really going through her head…but she didn’t.

Because she was simply content to be with her.

The flower girl was a master at concealing subtle strokes of shyness and anxiety well to the entire world…but the person standing right beside her, seeing so much, yet somehow not nearly enough. And what Bea saw now was Allie fumbling with her hands and averting her gaze whilst rambling about _something_ faux cheerfully, with that same grace of a performer on stage that she's come to know and recognize better than anyone else…but she didn’t know the real reason why.

Allie wanted to hold her hand.

She was trying not to.

And when Bea was caught staring a little too hard, trying to get a read on her, Allie sent her one of her usual, reassuring smiles, keeping her worries at bay…for now. Because maybe they didn’t need words after all, maybe it was another quiet that didn’t demand to be filled….but _felt,_ instead.

“That’s…that’s me.”

“So this is what the palace looks like….” – Allie observed with quiet marvel, then bowed like the nerd she was. “Pretty sweet. I expected a Harley in your driveway not a car, though. Fits the aesthetic better.”

“I don’t drive a motorcycle anymore but I can, for the record. “

And the mental image didn’t help Allie at all…

“Of course you do, why am I not surprised?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It was a compliment.” – Allie defended herself, stepping closer to Bea, studying her face intently from all angles in a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Jeez, Bea, you really need to learn how to take one. _”_

“So what are you gonna do, teach me?” – Bea drawled sarcastically with a raised eyebrow, moving closer on impulse too, staring Allie down even more. She meant to add a competitive streak to her words, graciously failing to realize just _how_ seductive that sounded.

Not-so-sober Allie didn’t.

“I already did, you just don’t listen….” – she countered in a heavy whisper, lightly tapping her nose twice for emphasis. _”…._ honey.”

Bea would have glared at her if she could get any of her facial muscles to comply…

While she was painfully sober, awake and aware, Allie’s mind was still clouded by alcohol…and maybe a touch of madness.

“You’re a terrible student, you know.”

That husky undertone just sunk into every inch of her, spreading slow burning fire from her face down to her body. She was also starting to become acutely aware of _how_ close Allie was.

“You just failed manners 101…”

She didn’t know if it was the gentle lights barely piercing through the pitch black darkness surrounding them diminishing her vision or her imagination running wild but she could have sworn the vibrant blue in Allie’s eyes turned a few shades darker again.

She could almost taste her breath mingling with hers now, as her perfume seemed to invade her every sense.

“W-well maybe you’re a terrible teacher.”

The sound of her own voice came out ragged, rough and low, dipped in a foreign _edge_ she couldn’t recognize. By now, Allie had followed her to the front door and was leaning casually against it with one hand, half of her body almost hovering over hers.

“Oh really….is that so? Are you sure…?”

Keys. She had her keys somewhere. Right. She had a purse. She had a pair of functional hands, too.  

Then why couldn’t she reach for any of them?

“I’m giving you a chance to take that back…better take it, Bea…”

She _could_ push Allie away, it wouldn’t be hard at all, her shoulders were right there and their height difference wasn’t that hard to cross…all she had to do was get up on her tip-toes a little. The only reason the blonde was acting like this now was because she was drunk….right? It had nothing to do with her. 

Then why couldn't she just...move?

“N-no way…”

Could’ve been Allie’s hand sliding down to her jaw..

Or maybe her hooded eyes watching her nowin sheer awe mixed with something else…akin to a _hunger_.

“Always gotta have the last word….."

Right now…she had none of those.

She was frozen in place.

"Don't you, Bea?"

Because every frantic sound of her thudding heart was buzzing in her ears, skipping too many beats to count, marching to an even more foreign rhythm...

“People say thank you to compliments.” – the blonde sighed softly, tucking Bea’s hair behind her ear with reverent intimacy, then retreated, a self-satisfied smirk settling on her face when the redhead swallowed another heavy breath stuck in her throat. “Do I need to go through all of that again or are you getting the message now?”

“J-just stick to the flowers, Allie. You obviously suck at this.” – Bea motioned between them with one shaky hand, prompting her not-so-sober companion to step back even more.

Bea was referring to Allie’s lack of teaching skills, of course.

“Stop being so mean to me, I’m gonna think you like me or something.” – Allie winked over her shoulder, the gentle click of her heels against the pavement a stark contrast to the thunderous rhythm of Bea’s heart.

“Think away.” – she shrugged, feigning disinterest. “It’s a free country.”

“Can you imagine the horror?” – Allie called out from the steps now, half of her profile basked in darkness, half in shimmering light…or maybe that was just _her_ light.

Bea couldn’t tell.

“You’d have a whole fanclub to compete with. You don’t wanna see a hoard of Novaks getting territorial, Bea---”

Bea rolled her eyes, every shade of slightly darker chocolate brown spelling _“you’re-full-of-it.”_

Allie breezed past it again. She already established Bea was a nonbeliever. She was working on changing that.

“I’ve seen it happen and it’s nasty, there was blood and tears everywhere and they weren’t mine..”

For once…

“I’m shaking again.” – the redhead countered with even more disinterest now, smirking just a little. This time she wasn’t lying…she _was_. Because it was chilly outside, of course.

“Let me guess…it’s cold?”

“It kinda is, actually.”

Allie smirked back. She just got out-bantered again. The nerve.

“Way to kill our jam, Bea.”

“What jam?”

Allie rolled her eyes then smiled brilliantly, failing to catch Bea’s charged exhale. Because something about that just made her heart rise to the back of her throat, spinning it into overdrive...

_Hey, rough morning?_

_Believe it or not, you’re the best part of it._

It wasn’t the first time it happened.

And if her heart wasn’t already vocal enough, forcing even her to stop and listen, if only for a  moment, her mind was louder. It just gave way to a million more questions, each more frightening than the previous one…because she had to wonder if Allie wasn’t the best part of her day, too..

 _Was_ she?

“You know I….” – the blonde’s mellow voice snapped her out of her reverie…but it didn’t derail or silence her previous train of thought in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to amplify it.

When she looked at Allie again, she was chewing on her bottom lip, her previous boldness seemingly fading away, like flipping on a switch. She was turning back to fifty shades of shy again.

Bea happened to appreciate all of them…but not for the reasons she thought.

“I had fun today. “ – she continued, shuffling her feet against the ground and staring at it like every speck of dust and concrete was magically entrancing “It was um…it was nice so uh…”

_How could you? I was awful to you._

“Thank you for doing this with me.”

_Even if you could’ve done it with anyone else._

“Sorry for the toes thing…” – Allie scratched the back of her neck, as another cheerful grin graced her features. “Won’t happen again, cross my heart.”

_Because I’ll probably never see you again after tonight._

Because, in Allie’s mind, if they had no wedding anymore….what were they?

Bea had no reason to want her in her life anymore.

“Not exactly a drive to the hospital but this is the next best thing. I’ll um…leave you to it, then. Good night…” – she finished by tipping a hat her way in her typical, geeky fashion. “ _m’lady_.”

Bea stared at her retreating figure, feeling a painful knot rise in her throat with every step she took. _Something_ sprung her into action. It could’ve been Allie’s smile, it could’ve been her need to show her gratitude..or perhaps her body catching up with her heart…

In a flash, the sound of her own heels against the pavement filled her ears, as she chased Allie, latching onto her hand, stopping her dead in her tracks.

“Wait, Allie.”

And when she turned around, mild confusion blended with something _else_ in her eyes, Bea stepped back like she just got tasered. Because _something_ flashed between them again.

It seemed to strike _her_ now…

“D-do you wanna come in for a bit?”

Bea needed to apologize. That was the only reason she was offering…the only one she could admit to. Because consciously she was back to square one, while her unconscious self was still stubbornly getting out.

And she had no best friend or voice-over best friend to pin the blame on for that anymore…she couldn’t hear any of them now.

“I…I don’t think I should.” – Allie’s forced smile barely masked the fallen look she just cast to her feet. “I’ve annoyed you enough for one day, you know, think you could use the break.”

_You could never._

“You really haven’t.” – Bea looked down too, picking her scattered thoughts apart restlessly, searching for…. _a reason_. “And I think you should. “

Allie’s eyes inched upwards, the unspoken _“why”_ lingering on both of their lips.

Because the reason could’ve been as simple as _“I need to apologize to you…”_

Or as complicated as _“I can’t let you go home.”_

“Because I need to talk to you about something…”

 Bea settled for simple…

“….and I can’t exactly do it here while you freeze to death on me. Can’t have much of a conversation with a block of ice, you know--”

“Freeze to death? Are you calling me weak?” – the flower girl pointed to herself, aggravated. “I know it’s a quarter after one and I have the muscle tone of a pudding but that’s just rude, Bea—“

Bea rolled her eyes, then laughed out loud…because Allie _did_ know her music. Lady Antebellum reference – impressive. Thank God for Debbie making her slightly musically-savy these days.

Allie held onto that, too.

“I saw you shiver just now, _idiot,_ that dress is practically see-through. I’d be a terrible plus one too if I didn’t notice. Just come on in for a sec, I don’t want you catching a cold. ”

“Aww…she is such a mom.”

“Do you want to get pushed through that door?”

_Pushed against it with you on top and we have a deal._

 “This is actually nice, you know, it’s been a while for me---”

“Oh, shut your mouth already.”

_Make me._

Allie had to bite her tongue, bottom lip and inside of her cheek not to say that out loud.

“You don’t mind the see through dress, tho, do ya?” – she punctuated her statement with what she hoped was a smooth, suggestive wink, instead.

However, she was unaware of how off her coordination actually was…she just blinked with both eyes.

“H-how drunk are you, Allie? Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Still _not_ drunk.”  - ever-the-woman child, the blonde crossed her arms with a scoff. Her not-so-graceful movements begged to differ.

Bea wasn’t that far off….Allie was _still_ a little tipsy. This was 6 drinks Allie – unfortunately for her, it had the same behavior of 5 espressos Allie – she tended to have no filter or self-control whatsoever.

It was the worst moment for that version of her to appear.

“ _Now_ I’m calling you weak, you had like two sips of champagne….from the kids’ menu, if I may add—“

At the same time, Bea _was_ far off…she had no idea how much Allie actually drank…and why. She just thought she did.

“Ha-ha. Aren’t you funny, Bea. My face is doing this…” – Allie chimed in, sarcastically, motioning to her unimpressed, poker face. “But really, I’m cracking up on the inside—“

“Before I let you in, _not drunk_ …”

Speaking of double meanings…

“That’s your name, right? Cuz you won’t stop saying it--”

“You really are hilarious, Bea…if you listen closely, you can hear the entire neighborhood laughing…oh wait, what’s that…? Cricket sounds?”

Bea decided to graciously ignore everything Allie just said…maybe she wasn’t wrong, maybe she did need to brush up on those manners.

“….I’ll say something to you but you’re not gonna like it.”

Just…not now.

“Haven’t you been rude enough?”

“I’m only just starting. Ready for it?”

“Please, wound me some more, why don’t you?”

Bea looked down, regretfully. Because she did. She must’ve.

“Sometimes I think you’re Franky’s long lost sister.”

“But better looking, right?”

“I rest my case.”

This time, however, it only landed on Allie’s ego.

It could survive.

“You’re lucky I enjoy the present company too much or I would’ve ditched ya just for that.”

“Course you do. What’s not to enjoy?”

“Finally. Think I’m rubbing off on ya a little.”

“I don’t mind.”

“A compliment…” – Allie gasped, dramatically, waving her hands around in disbelief…and appreciation. “You sure someone didn’t body-snatch you just now, Bea?”

“Oh, move already before I change my mind again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On second thought, I don’t think I could handle drunk Allie’s opinion on…everything. Because what she’d say to me would probably be…
> 
> “Pfft…*sips champagne* who the hell wrote this? Hey, eternal, is your name eternal ‘cause you take forever to let us kiss? Ridiculous. *smashes glass down on the table* Slow-burn? You mean burning me alive slowly? A-ma-teur."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please don’t hate me…part 2.
> 
> Inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EDl4iWodAg

Allie walked in, tentatively, a foreign, open space greeting her and welcoming her, all at once. Something about it drew her in, curiously and expectantly, her intrigued gaze following every detail with near reverence. Her scattered thoughts instantly turned quieter and a weak, but meaningful smile blossomed on her face…

Because something about it felt like…. _home._

It could’ve been the music records, the artwork adorning the walls, matching her own taste perfectly, the fact that it was modestly, but elegantly decorated, simple but not simplistic…

Or maybe it was Bea’s touch, her presence lingering in the air around like a security blanket, etched onto every piece of furniture and object, enriching every space, sparking up that unshakeable feeling of home in Allie now….or perhaps reinventing the meaning of it altogether. The blonde couldn’t remember the last time she felt like she belonged anywhere….but this breath she took, right here, right now, nearly set her free.

Nothing hurt anymore. She couldn’t remember the last time it didn’t.

If there was ever a home to be had for her…this was it.

It felt like the kind of place you come to seeking solace after a long, hard day, it held a certain warmth and comfort akin to a hug from a loved one. As Allie passed the mirror down the hall, Bea’s frame followed and she couldn’t help but catch the fleeting reflection staring back at them both, for a split second moment..

Pure contrast greeted her – because she and Bea were polar opposites in all understandings of the phrase, from the red and blue of their outfits clashing against each other, to their hair, even the color of their eyes…it felt like two different worlds coming together, sun and moon, on the same sky, at the same time, embracing each other.

 _That_ felt like home, too.

“Nice place you got here…” – Allie remarked, appreciatively, breaking the sudden quiet that fell upon them, as the sound of her heels on the wooden floor came to a screeching halt. “Cozy…home-y too.”

“Thanks.”

Encouraged by Bea’s soft smile, she took a few more steps, slower, unpracticed, hesitant even, feeling more like a privileged witness than a guest. Each one of them led her to Bea’s living room now. And the more she watched, the more she realized something else…something _important._

“Although....” – the blonde brought her hand up to her chin, feigning a thinking pose. “There’s something missing.”

“Flowers?”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Just a little…”

“They just…bring light to any room, y’know?” – Allie gushed excitedly, making her point with her usual animated hand gestures.

“And this one looks like it needs it?”

“Not so much when you’re standing there all…” – she gestured vaguely to Bea’s… _everything_. “Glowing…”

Bea dipped her head, casting a shy look down to her heels, a sudden rush of color dusting her cheeks. From Allie’s angle, _that_ only made her glow more. And when her present company cleared her throat, switching her attention to a beautiful painting on the wall, Bea’s bashful smile settled on her. Allie had to be _very_ drunk…and full of it right now…but her forwardness oddly didn’t make her uncomfortable. Should it? She just thought it was… _flattering?_

That and Allie was most definitely wrong - she was pretty sure it was the other way around.

“But uh…I have a point, hear me out.” – the flower girl resumed eye contact, just in time to take out an imaginary binder for the occasion, as an amused Bea watched on.

“Flowers are…” – now she was making a bullet-point list…because she was not a geek at all. “Cheaper than some fancy lights, smell better and they’re pretty.”

“They also wither.”

“Not if you take care of them right.”

When the words dropped from Allie’s lips, their eyes locked from across the room, a brief flash of realization setting in Bea’s, each syllable lingering heavy between them…

She _almost_ caught up with the double meaning…

“B-but it has personality …”

When the blonde spoke again, stealing her chance to read between her words or pick them apart any further, words that seemed to have a mind of their own tonight.

She did _not_ mean to say that out loud.

“I love that.”

Which was why conscious Allie just flung semi-drunk Allie into the sun with one hand, movie effects and soundtrack included.

“So what, you’re into interior design now, too?”

_Still into you, dummy._

“I can appreciate beauty when I see it, Bea.” - Allie clarified, nonchalantly, angling her head to scan the surroundings further with the curiosity of a child in a toy store.

A picture of a younger Bea and a cheerful, dark-haired girl who she assumed was her daughter caught her eye immediately – because they looked like two peas in a pod. Two very beautiful peas in a pod. Allie’s features softened, observing from afar with fondness and admiration…she wanted to see it up close but ultimately decided against it.

She didn’t want to impose.

“It’s why I don’t own a mirror because I mean—“ – she added with a disgusted undertone, pointing to her face, instead.

“Is that you fishing for compliments?”

“Is it working?”

Bea rolled her eyes, playfully.

“I just meant it has a bit of you in it…that’s all.” – Allie shrugged, lifting her palms up in the air…peacefully. “Scouts honor.”

_That’s why it’s beautiful._

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

Allie stared at her, poker-face set in stone down to the last line.

“Take a wild guess.”

Bea crossed the room, hiding another half-smile as she led Allie to the kitchen area. She motioned to one of the chairs, urging her to make herself comfortable…

_Easier said than done…_

“Sit down.”

Fortunately for the blonde, the 6 drinks in her were more than happy to provide assistance.

“Bossy, aren’t we?”

Allie complied, dutifully, like the polite guest she was, all the while scanning her from head to toe with an all-knowing, flirty smirk…

“You know…” – she crossed her legs smoothly, elegantly even, biting her bottom lip and motioning to Bea’s… _.everything_ again. “I kinda dig it, Bea-“

Same Bea now scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, staring at her current company like she grew two heads.

“So what, you like…” – Bea cleared her throat, then used air quotes. _“Your women”_ bossing you around, too?”

“Duh…” – Allie laughed.

She was 100% serious.

“You’re so weird, Allie--”

“I mean I tried to boss _them_ around and no one ever took me seriously.” – the florist grumbled under her breath. She was actually offended. “Can you believe the nerve on those--“

“Hmm…I wonder why.”

“Pffft….if you’re saying all of this doesn’t inspire fear and authority, you are so wrong—“

“Suuuure.”

“Okay…” – Allie crossed her arms, indignantly. “What is it about me?” – she went on to ask, genuinely curious _and_ concerned now.

“You mean what’s wrong with you? Do you have all day?”

“Ha-ha. You know what I mean. Go on then, tell me, don’t spare my feelings…”

“I can’t…” – Bea teased, keeping such a straight face you’d assume she was serious…if you didn’t know her, that is. “I don’t want to see you cry, Allie...“

The blonde ignored Bea’s lack of cooperation, then proceeded to scan herself now, from her outfit down to her hands, almost… _mournfully_. And it wasn’t long before she reached an unquestionable, painful verdict, all by herself…

“It’s the flowers, right? They don’t exactly scream badass…”

Now she was picturing her tombstone, adorned by cursive letters and exquisite floral designs …

_Here lies Allie Novak. The badass that never came to be. She loved flowers, cats and Bea Smith…_

“That, on the other hand, does.”

Bea’s face twisted into a confused grimace once again…until she followed Allie’s appreciative look. She was referring to her leather jacket draped on a chair nearby.

“So put it on, _miss attitude_.” – the redhead offered, bringing it to her. “While I make us some tea. I don’t want you sneezing all over my home, for the record.”

“Biker chick, huh..?” - Allie took the jacket from her hands, gratefully, bringing it closer to her chest like the world’s most precious gift. “More your speed than mine.” – she added, making a funny face at it, her fingers sliding over the fabric tentatively.

Bea stifled a giggle…because Allie looked like she never saw a similar garment in her life or had any clue how those things were supposed to be worn.

“Germophobe too, by any chance?”

“Funny.”

“Think my cool factor got multiplied by 100 just holding this, Bea--”

“You know, Allie…” – Bea deadpanned, leaning forward over the table, a little too close to a specific someone’s lips...who may have just shuddered. “Don’t mean to burst your bubble but uh…0 times 100 is still zero.”

Allie _would_ have glared…if she could.

She will succeed….someday.

“And don’t be ridiculous…” – the redhead added over her shoulder, retreating. “Leather is anyone’s speed.”

Encouraged by her words, Allie finally draped the jacket over her dress, welcoming the much needed warmth…Bea was too focused on the task at hand to catch the way she clung to it a bit too hard, breathing it in and exhaling softly…because it smelled like _her._

Like _home._

“So... feel like a rockstar yet..?”

When Bea turned around, giving Allie her undivided attention again, she promptly forgot what she was on the verge of saying next….because all the words she had got stuck in her throat. She took a good look at the flower girl and something else dawned on her…it wasn’t just Allie wearing leather...

It was Allie wearing… _her_ clothes.

”You’re making fun of me, aren’t ya?”

„N-no, I....”

Despite the fragrant difference in style, it didn’t seem out of place on her…at all. The image did _something_ to Bea, starting with the sudden dryness in her throat and ending with her pulse quickening, hammering like a drum in her chest…she wanted to say so much more but she was at a loss for words again, much like that day…the day that started everything, the day that _changed_ everything.

“It uh…it looks…”

_Pretty?_

_Nice?_

_Pretty nice?_

“It looks good on you.” – she concluded, catching Allie’s curious, expressive eyes for a split second, before turning around, reaching for the drawer above and retrieving two cups.

Not even close…

“And she lies to make me feel better…” - Allie bowed, appreciatively, her lips curving upwards into a soft, entranced smile.. “Again.”

When their gazes connected once more, Allie’s smile faded into something _else,_ no hint of teasing in her eyes, just pure _tenderness_ and wistful nostalgia this time around _._ Her presence still radiated tangible warmth, still reminded Bea of everything bright and pure in the world. And her sentence seemed to take them both back to that day – it felt so eerily similar, yet so vastly different now…

Maybe it wasn’t just the day that changed everything…it was the day that changed _her_. Because it was the first time Bea let the sun in.

“I’m gonna hold on to this for when you get the sudden urge to insult me.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath, Allie..”

 _She_ was.

Because Allie made it hard to breathe.

Because Allie _still_ made her nervous…more so now than she’s ever remembered. It felt like she was back in her office again – awestruck, scared and unsure of…anything. And much like then, she still thought Allie brought her own share of light to any space she touched. This one, right here, seemed to need it, yearn for it… _crave_ it even.

The more she watched, the more that deep, clouded part of her subconscious whose veil was starting to fall off was realizing something else - what her house was actually missing. And it wasn’t flowers or artwork or lights..

It was Allie.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“What?”

“You were staring at me, you weirdo.”

At one point, Allie caught one of Bea’s many fugitive, focused glances she had no idea she was casting… _her_ way.

“W-what?” – Bea scoffed, blinking once or twice rapidly, the gesture failing to ban that taunting thought breaking free from the darkest corner of her mind…“No, I wasn’t.”

She couldn’t rein it in now. It was all she could hear.

“Yes, you _were_.”

Allie did learn a while back that it was easy to rattle her – and semi-drunk her never passed on a golden opportunity like that.

“Fine…” – Bea crossed her arms, defensively. “You were...w-well you know…”

Same Allie whose grin was starting to spread unnaturally wide, threatening to split her entire face in half…

“Distracting.” – the redhead grumbled lowly, finally exhaling, then returned to her task again, ignoring Allie’s amused look on her back.

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Your thinking is too loud, Allie, it’s distracting.”

Pot calling kettle back…

“I was just…”

_Thinking about you._

“Thinking about the wedding, you know? How everything just… fell into place, every detail. No drama. I mean no one ruined their vows with some uncalled for proclamation of love…”

“You still watch too much TV, Allie…”

When Bea hovered over her shoulder as she passed her one of the cups, Allie held her breath, too. Because she was _still_ stealing hers, because for a moment they shared the same one.

“T-thanks…”

Allie brought it closer to her lips with both hands, allowing the heat to seep through her fingertips, warming her up from within…maybe this reminded her of home again, even if it wasn’t her home to be had…or yearn for…even if it was nothing more than another cruel glimpse into a future she could never have…

“That should make you stop shaking…”

Allie wasn’t so sure…

Bea was still standing up, casually leaning against her kitchen counter, sipping her tea while Allie sat down at the table following her every move…

“I’m always cold, you know…”

“I noticed…”

“No muscle tone, remember? Mere mortals freeze, _Wonder Woman…_ ”

Allie almost lost her train of thought again…because it wasn’t lost on her how… _domestic_ and natural all of this felt. The thought passed like another vicious stab to her heart…

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to do a push-up once in a while, Allie—“

“I’d rather die. Never say such scary words to me ever again, Bea.”

When Bea chuckled at the blonde’s genuinely terrified expression, leaning back, the still sobering side of Allie pictured something less innocent involving that kitchen counter…

For that, she just flung her into another dimension.

“You were right before, you know…” – Allie resumed their previous topic, needing a return to the… _neutral_ side of life. “Dramatic interruptions don’t happen in real life but they totally should. Would make my job more entertaining. _Speak Now or forever hold your peace_ , now _that’s_ a recipe for drama. “ – the flower girl took a sip of her tea then flashed her hand in the air, Hollywood-style, like she was just making her directorial debut. “The good kind. The kind people tune in for. Weddings need it.”

Bea was suddenly into television.

“No one got too drunk…”

….and she didn’t even know it.

“Except for you…”

Bea pointed at her, then drank some more too, the gesture hiding her smirk.

Allie could still see her eyes twinkling with a teasing spark.

“10 drinks and still standing is lecturing me, really?” – she scoffed in response, quirking her right eyebrow. “You know what, you’re not even wounding me anymore, Bea..“

She wasn’t. Allie had that part covered herself.

“Aww….now she’s lying to make herself feel better…” – Bea moved closer, lightly rubbing her shoulder in mock sympathy and comfort, too focused on bickering with her to hear Allie’s sharp inhale. “You’ll be fine… _boozy.”_

Allie wasn’t so sure.

Because the alcohol was wearing away. And this different brand of clarity washing over her somehow felt worse. It was getting increasingly harder to keep up the act, keep herself in check and in… _character_ …

“I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”

The rational part of her knew she should leave, mentally it was already one foot out the door. All she had to do was politely excuse herself…

“Still not a weakling, for the record—“

But Bea still had something she wanted to talk to her about. And the louder, less guarded part of her didn’t want to be anywhere _but_ here. She couldn’t move, in spite of how much every second here seemed to wreck her even more. Because she couldn’t tell her the truth, one of many truths…which was _…”being around you hurts too much right now.”_

Allie swallowed hard.

“Sure…”

Bea was too busy teasing her to notice.

“I just meant….it doesn’t always go so well. But I guess it did because t-they…they love each other so much, you know?”

Not only did she not trust herself around Bea now…she didn’t trust her words, either.

It wasn’t the first time they ruined everything tonight. The last thing Allie wanted was to make this about her…it had to be about Bea. Until the end. _“Be a good plus-one”_ has been her mantra for the entire day. She couldn’t afford to slip…she already did with the speech.

If only she knew she was _still_ slipping now…

“I think maybe that’s why…”

She hoped and prayed _that_ wasn’t what Bea wanted to talk to her about. She didn’t seem to have caught up with it…and if there was any other moment in time Allie wished for her to live up to her Cutie Ms. Clueless nickname the most, it was then. Same Allie who was already making up excuses in her head, believable ones…while she was still talking.

“ _That’s_ what made everything fall into place.”

She didn’t know how she could still maintain a conversation with Bea now. Because every rumble of her words was vibrating against her chest ever-so-painfully.

“Maybe that’s all you need to get it right.”

Because she wasn’t just talking about Franky and Bridget.

“The binders, the planning, the flowers and everything else is just…details. Fabulous details, don’t get me wrong…” – she added, hoarsely, taking another sip of her tea, her voice nearly dying out altogether…“But details nonetheless.”

For a moment there, Allie seemed to be losing herself, somewhere in the confines of her own mind…she was glancing out the window, her eyes holding that familiar, faraway quality, then back to the bottom of her cup, seemingly searching for _something_. The sight hypnotized Bea, as always, as it did since the moment she identified the look but never quite understood what it meant.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from her.

“Look at you go, _Shakespeare…”_

No matter what she said.

“If you don’t stop being mean to me, I’m gonna have to get down on one knee or something.”

And…strike 1.

“S-sure _those_ hands can even hold a ring, _Romeo_?”

Bea rubbed the back of her neck, nervously…unconsciously mirroring a particular someone’s anxious gesture.

"Ha-ha. If they can hold the weight of my problems, they sure can…” – Allie paused for dramatic effect, then bit back, smirking…” _Juliet_ —“

“I’m sorry ...” – Bea _tried_ not to laugh…. “But they really _do_ look like twigs, Allie…”

“One more insult and it’s a diamond ring, Bea—“

Bea had to bite her lip not to say… _”you idiot.”_

Allie noticed. It didn’t help her case. Neither did her jokes…but humor was her only defense and she could really use one tonight. Because if maybe she turned her feelings into a joke, she could pretend that they weren’t as real or as monumental or as serious as they actually were…

So she could survive this without falling apart at her feet right now.

“As I was saying before I got rudely interrupted…” – Allie drank again, feeling her throat dry out like sandpaper, as Bea stifled another witty comeback lingering on her lips. “I just meant the wedding was nice, you know? As perfect as it could get for them…”

Once again, every word falling from her lips lingered heavy in the air around them long after her voice wavered into silence...

Allie said it almost… _wistfully_.

And this time, Bea noticed.

“…for anyone, really…”

She had to wonder if it ever gets hard for her to see so many weddings…were weddings just as hard for Allie as they were for her? Does she ever crave what _they_ have? If you asked her, the real tragedy was that no one bothered to give any of it to someone like Allie…it made her angry yet again...but so sad, at the same time.

Bea was _still_ blissfully unaware that _she_ wanted to be that someone…

But she had to also wonder…. was that why Allie drank so much tonight? Was that was she was trying to drown? Everything she didn’t have?

As always, she was so close…and so far.

Because the real answer was - everything she couldn’t have…with _her._

“Yeah….thanks to you.”

“Nonsense. “ – Allie flashed her hand around, then shrugged, dismissively. “You know, Ruby…she says I plan them like I’d plan my own but it’s not true….I didn’t do anything special.”

She was downplaying her efforts…for the millionth time.

“Just paid attention.”

Because that’s what Allie always did…that’s who she was.

Bea had no idea how fondly she was looking at her right now. Because she was good at paying attention to anyone…but _herself._

“So even if you made fun of me then, too, _nonbeliever_ …”

Allie didn’t see a thing, either. Her hands were firmly pressed against her cup, shadowed by her focused, empty stare, urging _something_ in the clear liquid before her to speak now, give her an answer, anything she could use.

She knew the real answer was right beside her.

Allie couldn’t look anymore.

“That’s what I meant when I said it can be a fairytale…with the right person, I think everything is. “

The flower girl sighed heavily, still averting her gaze, instead focusing on her own nails like they decided to switch colors all on their own.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

Now she was unconsciously picking at the skin around her fingers, another anxious tick she acquired as a child…much like she did when she found herself sitting in her own driveway, with nowhere to go, no plan in mind, nothing…

She felt just as lost as then.

“Y-yeah…”

Bea still only had eyes for her.

And maybe she did from the moment she walked into her office.

“You know, y-you…you made them very happy.”

_You made me happy._

She was pretty sure it was just what Allie did – make everyone happy. But she had to wonder when was the last time anyone returned the favor for her…

“Y-you think?”

“I know.”

“They made each other happy, Bea…they didn’t need me.”

_No one ever does._

Her reluctance to take a compliment, too, her dismissive hand gestures, downcast eyes and the fact that Allie didn’t seem to believe her told her everything she needed to know. It had to have been a while for her…too long.

“All I did was bring the fireworks.”

On the list of things Bea found most devastatingly unfair in life, this one had to be number one – someone like Allie never knowing true happiness…when all she did, day in and day out, was give it to everyone else.

“So…what did you want to talk about?”

Before Bea could say anything else, she already deflected.

“Right…I…” – Bea shook her head, finally crossing that last remaining distance between them and sitting down across from Allie. As soon as she did, she clutched her own cup with both hands a little too hard, unconsciously mimicking her gesture again. “I wanted to say I’m sorry, Allie…”

_More than you know._

“Didn’t feel like a conversation to have on the street, you know.” _–_ she cast an absent look out the window, then back to her, biting her bottom lip, struggling with the words.

“What for?” 

Allie asked, gently, her eyes searching every detail of her profile intently, from the line of her jaw to the curve of her lips, then waited, patiently as always for her to continue.

_Everything._

Bea seemed to freeze, unconsciously tapping her fingers against her cup to the rhythm of a drum Allie couldn’t hear...one that could never hope to match the chaotic symphony of her pulsing heartbeats now.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

_Not now. Not ever._

Allie tried again, sending her another lifeline to hold on to, another promise. The fact that she answered straightaway, no trace of hesitation or doubt in those warm, inviting ocean blue orbs peering into her own only made more regret materialize out of thin air.

“It can’t have been easy to be around me today, Allie. “

It wasn’t…but not for the reasons she thought.

“You were scared you’d ruin it for me but I think _I_ ruined it for you.“

“Bea--“

“No, listen to me. I did.”

Despite the subtle cracks in her voice, there was palpable certainty in her words and vicious self-blame etched onto every one of them. The sound pierced right through Allie, harder than any needle that ever touched her veins. Because it can’t have been the first time Bea was told she ruined something.

And she was still believing it. The blonde’s hands unconsciously balled into fists by her sides, her mouth setting into a firm line. She could have killed Harry alright…death by a thousand cuts. That’s what he deserved. Because he was _still_ cutting into her, from miles upon miles away…

“No, you didn’t—“

Like he never left…

And Allie couldn’t seem to make it stop.

“And you’ve…you’ve been..”

_Too good for me._

“You tried to help me anyway..” – Bea stared at a neutral point in the distance, falling into another trance akin to a spell, a safe space Allie couldn’t see or touch once again…”So I guess I just…”

She took another deep breath and her eyes inched upwards shyly, the sight ahead rendering her exposed like never before.

“I wanted to thank you for that. Because y-you..you didn’t have to.”

Wordlessly, with her last shred of bravery and resolve, Allie reached out over the table and gently covered her hand with her own, silencing all unspoken protests lingering on her lips, one sharp breath away from coming out. Bea flinched ever-so-slightly then froze even more.

Allie thought she knew why because she finally had a reason for Bea’s aversion to being touched…but she had no idea the reason _changed._

Allie didn’t know _she_ was doing that to her now.

“Of course I had to.”

_I wanted to._

_I love you._

“Anyone would.”

“Not anyone…”

_Not the way you did._

“Hey…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Allie sprung from her seat, in one swift motion already kneeling before her. She reached for her hand again with nothing but candor and grace, determined to get through to her, one way or the other.

“You could never ruin anything for me, I meant that. “

Bea was rendered speechless…because it was the first time she felt like she could believe Allie…over everyone else, the first time _she_ was right and every other voice in her head was wrong, including hers…the first time she could maybe see herself through her eyes. The flower girl’s voice was so real, steady and calm, calmer than any storm raging inside them both…

And when Allie’s fingers grazed across her thigh ever-so-slightly, Bea shuddered, her body trembling with uncertainty and anticipation. She was too busy… _watching_ to even notice she didn’t stop her.

Bea wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

“And you don’t have to thank me...”

Her skin was still tingling with sensation long after she retreated her hand…asking for it back, pleading to be touched again...maybe only by her…and her only.

“I didn’t do anything.”

_Of course you did._

And it destroyed her that Allie didn’t seem to believe her…because how could she _not_ know? Everything she did, everything she was _still_ doing?

She ached to tell her even if she had no right words to speak, _show_ her even if she had no right way to act, no clue _how_ ….but she failed to react in time…

Allie had already slipped right through her fingertips, in more ways than just one, letting go of her hand and stepping away. She was standing up now, rubbing her hands together as if she had to physically force herself not to come any closer..

“Besides…this wise woman once said “ _I don’t get scared easily. So you’re_ _gonna_ _have to do a lot better than that.”_ Might know her, gorgeous red hair thanks to herself, really-not-skinny arms, can be sooo mean to blondes for some reason, think she likes to see them suffer--“

Bea laughed through glistening eyes…she was too busy _looking_ to notice her own body shifting as she stood up, too.

“So, you really failed tonight, Bea. Because you didn’t scare me. “

She did…but not in the way Allie meant.

“I mean was that your idea of snapping at someone? Now _that_ was weak—“

She was petrified of what was happening to her…jokes were all she had.

But never scared off completely – no shade of Bea could ever do that for her, not even if she tried. And she did.

“Do you really want to test me on that, Allie?”

“I think you can do better, Bea…”

She did, too.

“I can teach ya. For real, this time, I’m an expert at snapping at people, listen, it’s easy—“

Allie was too focused on rambling passionately to see all the ways Bea was seeing _her_ right now.

 _She_ had no idea, either.

“First you need a really good insult, something that hurts, right? Everyone is hurt by something, you just have to find out what it is.”

Speaking of double meanings…

“Then it’s all about the delivery, now this is important, Bea, listen up, you need a balance, right, enough sass to burn but not too much so you’re a complete psycho--“

Allie’s speech got cut short by a pair of loving arms latching onto her impulsively, almost… _desperately,_ circling around her shoulders. A soft gasp tore out of her when Bea buried her head in the crook of her neck, pulling her closer, holding on to her for dear life, tighter than she even thought she needed.

Allie’s breath hitched in her throat, one hand shakily sliding down her waist, unsteady and powerless, too fragile to keep them both afloat..

“Allie, I…”

She barely registered a word Bea was saying to her..she only felt her cheek resting against her shoulder and her shallow breaths mingling with hers. She was _too_ close.

Allie nearly crumbled…because Bea’s lips lingered, a feather-light touch against her pulse point, pressing gently…she wondered if she could hear the echo of her heart now, ready to explode…

She wondered if she knew.

“I’m sorry…”

Against all impulses to the contrary, for a single treasured moment, her guard fell down to the floor and she allowed herself to be selfish. Because it was all she wanted all day - for Bea to come to _her_ …of all people. And maybe she didn’t know it yet, but it was all Bea needed all day, too. To be right here and nowhere else.

So she broke down, sniffling quietly, as Allie fell apart too, letting herself succumb to that feeling and melt in her arms…one hand found Bea’s waist again, while the other drew comforting circles on her upper back, holding her so cautiously, wanting to take her pain away with every touch…

“Thank you…again.”

It was all she did since the day they met. Because no ever held her like that.

No one but _her._ And she still had no clue…because Bea never told her.

“It’s okay”.

Allie didn’t know who she was speaking to more.

“It’s been a crazy day, huh?”

“Y-yeah…” – Bea wiped her eyes, withdrawing slowly, visibly embarrassed by her own moment of weakness.

“Least you gave Franky away…” – Allie trailed off, smiling weakly, then letting her go.. “And you didn’t set her on fire, huh?”

“Yet…”

“You’re still gonna, aren’t ya?”

“I keep my promises, Allie.”

Bea chuckled, sincerely…and the blonde’s smile has never been brighter…but there was also something _else_ there.

It didn’t match her eyes.

Because her eyes seemed stormy, conflicted now, less fuzzy with alcohol, clearer, more transparent with something _else_ similar to melancholia…and it wasn’t the first time Bea noticed tonight.

She thought of picture Allie again…

“S-speaking of interior design…”

But before she could say another word, ask her what was wrong, Allie was already stepping away, peering around curiously…and deflecting again.

“Take it the music records are your daughter’s idea, right?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Is that her…your daughter?” – Allie asked, meekly, angling her head, her gaze chasing that familiar frame from across the room once again.

Bea turned at the sound of her voice, nodding softly in her direction, then walked towards it first, urging Allie to follow, showing her that it’s okay to come and see it up close, that it’s okay to _meet_ her…

“Yeah…” – Bea stopped right beside it, fingers trailing across the picture, tracing Debbie’s every feature with nothing but love and affection and Allie followed every move, falling into a trance now, too, her equally captivated eyes shifting away from the bubbly young girl in the frame then back to her mother...

Before she could stop herself, her unconscious impulses kicked in, overpowering everything else. Allie found herself coming up from behind, almost beside her, one hand reaching out too, across that same frame they were both looking at now, fingers inches away from brushing against each other’s…

“She’s beautiful, right?” – Bea whispered, holding her breath again, suddenly aware of Allie’s proximity.

“Y-yeah, she is..”

_And so are you._

When Bea turned around, she nearly bumped into Allie because she was so close now. A shiver passed through her body when Allie’s hand fell down from the picture then froze mid-air, hovering close to her waist, almost touching but not quite. Hyper aware of the other’s presence like never before, something passed between them again, a charged, electric energy, pulling them together like magnets.

Allie’s eyes flickered ever-so-slightly to her lips and, for a moment, so did hers. She blinked once or twice rapidly, the space between them shrinking even more as time seemed to stand still, freeze her with nowhere to go, no clear path to follow..

“Bea, I…”

She was seeing dream Allie again. It was then that realization fully struck her, forcing her to backpedal out of instinct and maybe a touch of _fear_ , too. They were _both_ looking at her the same way. The sight jolted her awake then…because she couldn’t take it.

She can’t take it now, either.

“Allie, we need to talk.”

She stepped back clumsily, almost abruptly, as a flash of raw hurt passed onto Allie’s eyes.

Bea failed to catch it - the blonde was already readjusting herself, straightening her shoulders and taking a step back, too. Bea thought she was drunk…but she’s never been more sober than now.

She finally woke up.

“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” – she asked, with a devastating _calm._

“No, we need to talk about your speech.”

“Oh…that.“ – Allie’s shoulders tensed and her entire visage dropped for a split-second, only to be instantly replaced by her… _practiced_ smile. She knew this was coming, she had another speech ready. “Just forget it, Bea, the champagne did me in. Just got all the way up to this stupid head, y’know how it is—“

Bea _still_ thought she knew exactly how much she drank and why – and in her mind, Franky’s girly champagne was not nearly enough to get anyone _truly_ drunk. To her, that excuse was even weaker than the delivery. Allie wasn’t fooling anybody.

Same Allie who still had it in her to shrug…then laugh…because that’s how she reacts to being cornered.  

“Don’t bullshit me, Allie.”

“I’m not--“

She wasn’t. Not all the way. Because alcohol is also known as… _liquid courage._

“Yes, you _are_.”

Bea crossed her arms in front of her, voice coming out a lot harsher and angrier than she intended. For Allie, it was another wake-up call she desperately needed….one she would finally listen to.

 _She_ saw it as accusation.

Bea saw it as a need for truth.

“Told you I’m not good with words, just forget it. It was really, and I mean _really_ stupid—"

Because the last shred of reason still stubbornly functioning in her presence was screaming at her to put an end to it, to _something_ that had begun to end before it even got a chance to start. The sooner she did it, the lesser the pain in the long run was its compelling argument.

“No, it wasn’t.”

_It was beautiful._

Allie had wrecked her own heart enough.

If only she knew she was only just beginning...

“I know what you’re trying to do now, so let me save you the trouble. “- she cleared her throat...and whoever spoke next couldn’t have been _her._ “Allie, I don’t appreciate you pulling that stunt in front of everyone, when I at least had the courtesy to take you as my pity-date to my best friend’s wedding. And I’m flattered you see me that way but I don’t so we should both be on our separate ways after tonight. Close enough?”

The flower girl’s words dropped like a single needle on the floor of a silent room, calmly on surface, coated in stifled bitterness, blended with hollow resignation underneath, masked so well to the entire world… _but_ Bea.

Neither belonged there. It didn’t sound like her voice anymore.

“Are you…are you serious right now?”

“Too harsh? Want me to rephrase that? Doesn’t matter, it’s still what you want to say but you’re too nice to say it, I _know_ you—“

The unfamiliar sound, so far away from Allie’s real voice crashed against the throbbing walls of Bea’s heart, sinking down into every fractured piece, ripping it apart even more. She looked at her almost incredulously – she didn’t recognize her.

Because this version of Allie was trying to push _her_ away. And, for once, Allie wasn’t self-aware enough to know it, either.

“Hold on, hold on…is that what you think-” – she motioned between them, frantically. “This is?”

_Me feeling sorry for you?_

Why _wouldn’t_ she? Bea didn’t…say anything. And not just today.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings or anything, Bea, I appreciate everything you’ve done today but Franky obviously dragged you into this so…what _else_ would it be—“

She _never_ ….said anything. It was the worst moment for that knowledge to hit her.

“If you think for one second I’d ever…take pity on you...”- she bit back, angrier than she meant once again. “Then you don’t know the slightest thing about me.”

Allie choked, overcome by raging _guilt,_ concrete pose falling then crumbling piece by piece..

“I’m sorry…I—“

_I didn’t mean that._

“No, this isn’t even about me..so I’m gonna need you to shut up and listen, Allie, okay?”

Bea’s voice unknowingly softened along with her entire exterior, despite the storm still blazing in her eyes…

“I don’t want to know who made you think you don’t deserve to be a first choice because I’d break their jaw.“

It was Bea’s own way of saying _“I wanted to go with you. You were my first choice.”_ She still didn’t know why that was, _why_ the thought of seeing Allie with anyone else at her best friend’s wedding wounded her so much then. She never allowed herself the headspace to think about it.

She was thinking about it now.

“And I thought that goes without saying but I will say it if you need to hear it – you’re not pitiful.”

It was too late.

“You’re anything but, y-you’re…”

_Everything you don’t think you are._

“I’m….what?”

“Nevermind.”

Even when Bea tried, it seemed to get lost in translation. Because this version of Allie wasn’t getting the message, not by a long-shot.

“And that wasn’t even what I wanted to ask before, Allie..”

“Then what was?”

“W-were you…were you really talking about me?”

Her voice was so small and uncertain now…

Allie’s faded away altogether.

“Did you mean it?”

She couldn’t speak now.

Somehow….she’s never said more.

Bea’s eyes did the speaking for her.

_Please._

The more she stepped forward, the more Allie stepped back.

“C-course I did…”

Eventually, her voice returned…

The flower girl faltered then crumbled to fine dust, every word coming out strangled from her throat…and now Bea was seeing the real Allie again – honest, vulnerable and _so_ beautiful…it tore her apart completely. Because this time she also saw something _else_ among the compassion, concern and unspoken support she’s shown her all day…she saw it in her eyes  - everything Allie wanted her to see all day…or better yet, all along.

The sight wounded her more than anything else. Because _she_ brought it on. And she didn’t deserve it.

Bea asked for the truth and now she couldn’t take it.

“But I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why?”

“It’s not fair.”

Neither could Allie.

“Fair? W-what do you mean, I don’t….why?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Words failed Allie all night…this was nothing but the grand finale of the cruelest joke the universe has been playing on her since she opened her eyes and took her first breath in the world. All she knew how to do ever since was ruin everything.

But there was no rewind button to press, no going back now – they came tumbling out of her mouth impulsively, as something _else_ broke inside of her. Each syllable fell calmly, almost melodiously from Allie’s lips, no fight left in her anymore. Akin to another needle dropping to the floor with a gentle thud, her words did the same, if only for a moment.

They’ve wrecked enough havoc in the contained space that was her damaged heart.

It was time to move the damage outside.

“I’m not…”

Everything else that followed was nothing but a muffled echo gradually fading in the background…because Allie had no clue she was still speaking. Her numb body felt like it didn’t belong to her anymore and she was watching it from above, powerless.

“….drunk…I…I tried…”

_I couldn’t drink you away._

Because the hoarse, trembling voice barely piercing through the monumental quiet sounded like someone else’s…

“I am…”

…but her lips were stubbornly still moving, her words still begging to be released….and _heard._

“I’m sorry…”

Eventually, her voice shattered then fell apart altogether…just like her.

Because she failed. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about her.

“I’m so sorry…”

Then came nothing but silence.

Suffocating, deafening silence. It was somehow much louder than the lingering echoes of that sentence, still vibrating against them both, to the rhythm of two thundering hearts, in perfect sync…even now.

As for Bea? Once the steady buzzing in her ears settled just enough so she could hear her own tangled mess of thoughts, something _else_ emerged from underneath all the chaos…

_No one would want you and everyone knows it._

Followed by…

_I’m in love with you._

Again and again and again, clashing against each other as time seemed to stand still. One of them was louder, one of them was _always_ louder.

But neither were quite as loud as her ravaging silence now.

“So that… that’s what makes it unfair. I should go—“

_Stay with me._

“D-don’t.”

After everything Allie gave her, that was all she had – one step, one word, strangled and frail, before her throat tightened around itself and her voice gave away, scaling down into nothingness. Nothing more, nothing less. One word - shaky, breathless, hollow and nowhere near… _enough._

“I have to. “

And even that one came too late. Allie had already slipped away. Maybe she had a couple million unspoken words back.

“And I need you to let me, okay?”

_I need you to let me let you go._

Bea’s hands hung limply by her sides, frozen in place…just like her…when Allie gently took her jacket off, placing it on a chair nearby, almost punctuating her words with that gesture, shedding away the last reminder of her..

“A-Allie…”

“Can you do that for me?”

She nodded, fractured and weak, almost imperceptible…because how could she _not?_

She’d do anything for her.

“So I can be your friend…if that’s what you want from me, just…”– Allie inched closer, sapphire eyes glistening with unshed, contained tears. “Let me have tonight.”

The flower girl’s voice was thick with emotion but calm now, _so_ calm _._

Because this wasn’t Bea’s moment of truth…it was hers.

Every speck of blue in Allie’s eyes still shone so brightly… even now.

For _her._

She was so beautiful.

“Because I want to be. “ – she reached out, taking hold of her hand again, caressing it lightly. “Y-you…you mean a lot to me, you’re…”

_Everything to me._

Bea’s heart slammed against her ribs like every involuntary tremble of Allie’s voice resonated in _her_ , as her breathing turned ragged and her eyes flooded with hot tears all the same. Because her body still spoke. Even when _she_ couldn’t.

“… _special_ to me, you know and I don’t want to ruin this..” – she motioned between them with her other hand, then let go.. “Whatever this is for you, alright?”

_I want it to be the same for me._

_You could never ruin anything for me._

Bea opened her mouth to say something, _anything…_

Allie saw her struggling…she’s struggled all day…the last thing Allie wanted was to add to it…

So she stopped her with a gentle move of her hand, reassuring sky-blue eyes drowning her and pulling her back to the shore, all at once…

Eyes now telling her something else, in non-negotiable terms, different from everything she’s ever been told…by Harry, by her family, by the entire world:

_“I love you…but you don’t have to love me.”_

Because even now, Allie puts her first, because even now, she’s not expecting or demanding a single thing from her.

If only she knew she didn’t let her speak at the one time she needed to the most…

But Allie didn’t feel like she deserved a single word anymore…

“Don’t…”

And maybe she couldn’t hear it either…she couldn’t hear her first love rejecting her.

Because she wanted to get a single thing right and she couldn’t….she couldn’t even be a good plus-one to her…she couldn’t be anything to her other than another source of confusion and pain. She didn’t deserve a single word now….not even rejection. Because she let down her first love…just like she let down everyone else.

“Don’t… feel like you have to say anything to that, okay? I’m not asking you to.”

Bea couldn’t even if she wanted to. And she did.

Words failed her all night, too. They failed her since the day they met.

“I just…wanted you to know.” – Allie’s hand came up to fix her hair shakily…and all Bea wanted was to cover it with her own, hold her there, keep her from running away..she couldn't get a single muscle to move. “Because it’s also not fair to lie to someone y-you…”

Allie’s breath caught in her throat, hand freezing mid-air…

_Love…_

 “….care about, right?”

They both knew what she really wanted to say.

All Bea saw now was a vibrant, reassuring smile she never once deserved still aching to make _her_ smile in return. When their gazes clashed again, a glimmer of tragic hope was dancing in hers….that ever-so present spark was still lingering there….but so was that hint of stifled hurt in her eyes…

And this time Bea couldn’t look. At all.

Because _she_ caused it and Allie was trying to hide it…for _her_.

Allie had no idea she was probably the only person in the world who saw it and knew what it meant.

“For the record…”

All she heard now was the sound of heels clicking against the floor, rhythmically, melodiously even…

“No matter what you think…”

She couldn’t look up anymore…

But Allie still wanted to see her, maybe for the last time.

”I’m pretty sure this was the best day of my life so…thank you for that.” – Allie’s hands anchored her and tore her apart one last time when they found both of her cheeks, tilting her chin upwards. And when she laid a fragile, loving kiss on her forehead, Bea could have sworn her heart stopped beating.. “Night, Bea…”

For once, she agreed with Franky’s voice chanting in her head…

_Chase her, you fucking idiot or I swear to God I’m breaking all of your bones and making a thematic hat out of them to wear to your funeral—_

But her body didn’t. Even if she gathered every ounce of courage and strength she possessed, she couldn’t get it to move. She was too shocked to react, move or…. _say_ anything. As always. She stood frozen in place, a million thoughts racing through her mind all at once, her forehead still tingling from where Allie’s lips had been…she was so close, she wanted to touch her elbow, stop her….she _couldn’t._

Because Allie didn’t want to be chased….even if she deserved it.

And Bea wasn’t ready to chase her.

All she had was a dull ache in her chest, as the last strand of familiar blonde hair flashed across her eyes, then vanished from her sight, along with its bearer. All she had was the fading sound of Allie’s footsteps, moving further and further away..

She stayed glued to that same spot, staring numbly ahead, motionless, hoping, _praying_ she’d return but knowing she won’t.

All she had was another set of words ringing in her head now…. _hers._

_Something that breaks your heart?_

_Letting down someone I care about._

Then came nothing but silence.

The sun went down again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know…they were so close. If you want to be extra okay after this chapter, here’s some meta for you - Bea doesn’t know it yet, but she loved her enough to let her go, too..:( I asked you guys back in chapter 3 to stick with me and not impale me first…because I knew this was coming. I hope you still can. 
> 
> P.S. I’m the devil but….I love a good kiss as much as the next person. :) … or should I say..kisses? I’ll let myself out now…


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Franky is the Chanel of all best friends, I do not make the rules.
> 
> P.S. Between Bea and Allie....who do you think is gonna kiss the other first and why? Place your bets below…you won’t win anything but I’m dying to know your thoughts so please humor me. :)

It’s been 20 days, 12 hours and 40 minutes since Allie Novak told Bea Smith the scariest sentence of her life, the most frightening string of words ever put together in the history of the world.

_I’m in love with you._

_Her_ world, at least.

The enduring, unresolved echoes of that sentence and the voice that uttered them lulled her into night of restless sleep after night of restless sleep, no end in sight. It was the first greeting she received at the dawn of morning.

Tragically perfect.

Tragically _undeserved_.

She wore that leather jacket until it stopped smelling like Allie…then cursed herself for daring to imprint it with her own fragrance.

She couldn’t drink from any blue cups because they reminded her of Allie’s eyes.

She lost track of how many times she drove all the way to her shop, parked across the street and froze, hands wrapped around the steering wheel with an iron grip, heart pulsing, throat drying out.. because she had… _nothing._

Nothing at all to say…

She broke down and cried, instead.

She hasn’t touched a single flat white since the last time she shared one with _her_. What was once Bea’s favorite pick-me up turned into yet another painful memory tied to Allie…she didn’t even like it without that dorky rose on top anymore.

No, it wasn’t.... _dorky._ It was beautiful.

And it was speaking to her now in a way it didn’t before.

It had to mean something, too.  _Everything_ Allie had done all along meant something…

Her quest for answers drove her mad, no stone left unturned…it even led her to the internet. And maybe her destination has always been clear, somewhere in the back of her mind…but the journey wasn’t. She stumbled, tripped and fell a million times over.

It led her here, now.

 _Now_ she knew.

**A red rose is an unmistakable expression of love. Red roses convey deep emotions - be it love, longing or desire.**

**A single red rose says: "I love you"/”You are the one for me.”**

She couldn’t look at a single flower without falling apart.

How did she know? Because she tried.

She tried _everything._

She couldn’t get her out of her head.

She saw Allie in every blonde woman passing her by on the street – all the more reason why she might have asked Maxine to take over all of her…platinum blonde bridezillas. She couldn’t cry all over them...surely not professional.

It’s been 20 days, 12 hours and 41 minutes (now) of pure torture.

It felt like an angsty rom-com montage, one of the many she was forced to watch at Franky’s incessant urging.

Only the drama is never that funny when it happens to you.

Right now, she was living it front row center. And it wasn’t even entertaining.

Unlike a movie, no one seemed to be planning any surprise happy ending or grand twist of fate, ready to be unfolded and exposed in celebratory fire and glory when she least expected it, just one chapter away. No, this right here was her endgame. Her story had taken a turn for the worst and it was on her, no one else.

She’d be lying if she said every passing second in this stupid, empty house didn’t destroy her.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have an Allie-shaped gaping hole in her chest now where her heart used to be.

She’d be lying if she said her real heart wasn’t still bleeding on the floor below her feet, in that same spot she stood motionless that night, that same limited perimeter she _still_ felt attached to. She couldn’t even look at it as she did her chores around the house. And by chores she meant eat ice-cream.

Even _that_ reminded her of Allie.

Maybe her real heart wasn’t on the floor after all. Maybe Allie just casually took it with her on her way out. She wouldn’t hold it against her. She never gave Allie _anything._

She had all the right to take it, stomp on it, rip it to shreds if she so desired. She had all the right in the world to take _anything_ of hers she wanted. She was already stealing the last fragile breath that kept her afloat.

It still called out to her helplessly.

It took her own daughter to tell her _“who broke your heart, I’ll kill him—“_ over Skype to make her realize just how much of her ache was actually showing on the outside.

Only it wasn’t a him.

It was a _her._

And it was the other way around.

Make that 42 minutes.

“Oiiiii Red, open up.”

The universe’s grand plan for her was far from glorious, alright – it only featured _more_ torture.

“I come bearing gifts, let me in, _grouchy.”_

She didn’t move an inch...

„Come on, I know you’re in there.”

Until Franky’s knocks turned into a loud, off-beat pounding against her door, a not-so-subtle clue that she wasn’t about to take no for an answer...so she reluctantly complied, grumbling to herself..

Door half-open, chain still on, nothing but a glimpse...

“Ugh, go away—“

It was more than enough for Franky to see how bad it was.

“Shit…” – the newly-wed gasped softly, momentarily... _stunned._ ”Depression sweatpants – check, dark circles under eyes – check, even more snarkittude than usual – check, Debbie’s band hoodie ‘cause you were too busy moping for laundry – check…The fuck happened to you, Red?”

In three years of knowing Bea, she’s never looked like _this._

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, let me in. This is a friendship code red, _Red.”_

Bea rolled her eyes to the back of her head. Franky and puns – _that_ was the real marriage. She entertained the thought for exactly 0.02 seconds then put up even bigger walls than before, growling at her again.

“Let it go, Franky.”

“Come on, I come with peace offerings – caffeine and sugar.” – Franky pressed on, shoving a brown box and two coffees in her arms, forcefully. „Take them, for me, they’ll make you bearable. And then you and I are gonna have a lil chat.”

“Doubtful. “ – Bea scoffed. “But I am gonna take those.”

With that, she scurried back in with the clear intention of making Franky take a metaphorical (and physical) hike...but she was quicker on her feet. She put up one of said feet in the doorway, stopping it from shutting all the way through, trailing hot on her tail...

“Come on in, Franky. Oh, thanks, best friend, aren’t you a wonderful host.”

It was then that Franky noticed something else, aside from Bea’s mocking scowl and complete disregard of her presence....

Bea was _a lot_ thinner than she remembered....

She wasn’t gone that long....was she?

“So, Red....” – a brief hint of worry flashed across Franky’s eyes, overtaken by her much frailer appearance. „You know me, I’m a peaceful woman, I don’t like violence and normally I don’t mind some extra grouchy all over ya, I even dig it--”

“Are you asking for a nose bleed right now?”

"…..but you _will_ tell me what crawled up your bum or I’ll beat it out of ya.”

The brunette put up a stern hand in the air, then crossed her arms, silencing whatever Bea was about to say next.

“I know I’ve been busy newly-wedding but I’ve still noticed, a’right? You’ve been ditchin’ me for days and I’m fresh out of best friend ditch passes to give ya. Not to mention, I’m fantastic company so it can’t be me, there’s something else goin’ on here.“ – she then pointed to Bea’s entire disheveled…. _everything._ “Aside from your horrid frizz, of course.“

As Franky made herself overly comfortable in her living room, plopping herself down on her couch, Bea’s jaw clenched, eye twitching in annoyance, frustration building up in waves...

“Look...” – she breathed heavily through her nose, crossing her arms now, too. „I appreciate all this, but you know I don’t do talking so just back the hell off already.“ - she hissed in a low, menacing tone, not one to back down either. “Door’s that way. Thanks for stopping by. Call next time.”

Franky remained unfazed, standing tall like a brick wall. She liked her bones intact and on the inside of her body but she’d be willing to risk having them crushed into a fine powder right now, that’s how far her loyalty went.

“Does this extra grouchy sprinkled on top of your usual grouchy have anything to do with a particular blondie?”

Silence.

“A-ha! I struck a chord just now. Man, I’m good.”

Silence….again.

Not just a chord, the entire symphony.

“Spit it out, come on, what’s wrong?”

With sympathy etched onto her every feature, the tattooed woman passed her one of the paper cups slowly, with the cautious stance you’d use to approach a wounded..but nonetheless _feral_ animal.

„I’m worried about you. Did she do anything?”

Bea took the lid off shakily, staring at the bottom of the cup, scanning the texture and the colors blending together, seeking... _something._

A flat white…of course.

_No sugar. Because you’re sweet enough by yourself and all._

Her bottom lip quivered, a soft, barely audible whimper escaping her throat, as her eyes swelled up with tears.

Allie’s voice in her head was _all_ she had now.

“....because as much as I like goldilocks, I won’t hesitate to finely dice those spider legs into a fucking leg salad then serve it back to her skinny ass--“

Franky _was_ a chef, after all..she knew how to handle knives better than anyone. In any other context, her unyielding care and devotion would have been heart-warming to Bea…however, her best friend was wrong, her venomous threats were entirely misplaced.

 _She_ deserved that treatment, not Allie.

 _Never_ Allie.

“No, no, she didn’t…” – Bea’s exhausted, dimly lit eyes shifted away from her cup down to the floor, as she fumbled with the edge of her sleeve unconsciously. „ _Do_ anything..”

She just fell for the wrong person.

„Then what is it?”

No matter how hard she tried to fight them, Franky saw - there were even _more_ tears lingering in her haunted brown orbs now. She moved closer, grabbed her hand and gave it a light squeeze. Bea didn’t react in any way.

Because she wasn’t _here_ anymore...

“Come on, use your words…”

Easier said than done…

“Allie’s in love with me.”

Franky would never win an award for her tact, grace or finesse in a lifetime, but if there was something she excelled at, it was perceptiveness. She caught it immediately, she knew what the real issue was. Bea said it in a pained voice, like the words physically hurt her.

Because the idea of _anyone_ loving her wounded her more than anything else.

Because she thought she was unfit to be loved.

“And you’re just _now_ figuring that out, sunny?”

Bea sent her a death-glare.

“Sorry…not the time, got it. Did she…did she tell you that?”

“Y-yeah…right after your wedding.”

20 days, 12 hours, 47 minutes and 31 seconds ago, to be precise. Not that she was keeping track or anything. Not that every single one of those passing seconds only expanded that gaping hole in her chest.

Maybe all this time, she only had a _physically_ functional heart. Because this was different from any ache she ever experienced – and she knew all types, from angry words, to cracked ribs and bruises, to being forced to marry a monster in front of everyone, to having her own daughter miles away from her…

Nothing compared to this. Because she had nothing to compare it to. She would have preferred a million angry punches from Harry over this, whatever this was.

It could’ve been Franky’s honest, hazel eyes nonverbally urging her on or her fragile hold on _everything_ wearing thinner, much like she was..

„I don’t think she even wanted to…”

Before she could stop herself, her mouth did open and everything came flooding back to the surface, drenched in unchained _anger._..

“She wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t pushed her.” – Bea tossed her cup down harshly, lifting her frame off the couch. „S-she...she doesn’t even drink and she...”

_She drank because of me._

„God...she had feelings for me and she went along with this plus-one thing anyway.” – now she was pacing back and forth erratically. „And I just couldn’t let it go, I cornered her, Franky, I---“

_Like a fucking idiot._

“Why did you?”

Franky’s question froze her in place.

“I…I don’t know.”

Bea still didn’t want to stop and ask herself why she did it. Franky’s all-knowing look seeing right through her now told her that _she_ knew...and perhaps a part of Bea did, too...maybe, just maybe, she was so focused on finding out if Allie loved her, even shutting her down without meaning to just so _she_ wouldn’t have to face the fact that she might...feel the same way.

“So that’s why you’ve been ditching me. Maxie did say you’ve been out of it at work, too. Fuck, Red, you could’ve come to me, I’m your friend, _best_ friend, for fuck’s sake. Why else do you think you have me, it’s for times like these, you lunatic--”

“I’m sorry, Franky.”

Given how often she said it, maybe she finally _did_ learn her apologies.

“So what did you say?“

“Nothing, alright?” – Bea snapped, running in circles even more, figuratively and literally. ”Nothing....” – she repeated, lower, shakier, all the frustration and rage in her voice simmered down into a mournful whisper..

It wasn’t long before that familiar, stifling weight pushing on her shoulders choked her into complete silence. And when she stopped talking, her gaze followed that single spot Allie occupied in her kitchen, that single spot she seemed to light up like no one else, looking for her as if she could still see her frame there…

Her breath caught in her throat, glazed eyes unknowingly softening...

“I never… _say_ anything to her.”

_I’m worried about you._

_You find light in anything._

_You look amazing._

_I couldn’t leave you._

_You look beautiful._

_I need you._

_I would never judge you._

_You deserve better than me._

_I would never hurt you._

_You’re too good for me._

_You’ll do great. I trust you._

_You looked so beautiful up there._

_I can’t lose you._

_I don’t know what I’d do without you._

_Please don’t go._

_You’re my family._

**_I love you._ **

And maybe she wasn’t uttering a single word anymore but she was hearing them now, clear as day, down to the last letter, everything she _ached_ to say to her since the day they met but couldn’t, everything Allie deserved to hear all along....

She left it unspoken. Now it’s screaming in her head.

“....nothing that matters, anyway…”

“I’m sure that’s not true--“

“You don’t get it, Franky, s-she…she doesn’t…. _know_.”

All she heard was the distant call of her own words, so empty and so meaningless compared to Allie’s...

_You made me happy._

_You’re everything you don’t think you are._

_You could never ruin anything for me._

_Stay with me._

All she heard was the sound of everything she couldn’t say to her that night, the one night she needed to speak the most...

“Know what?”

“Nevermind…”

„Whatever it is...it’s never too late to tell her...”

_Of course it is._

Allie gave her all the words...

 _She_ gave her nothing.

“What did you _want_ to say?” – Franky probed, cautiously.

The question only seemed to paralyze Bea even more, lead her somewhere further away from this room once again...Franky noticed but she didn’t say anything, instead watched in silent support, giving her time to process her thoughts...

“I-I don’t know, okay?” – the torn redhead’s glance eventually shot up from the floor, as she ran an angry hand through her hair. „I don’t know _anything_ anymore.”

Completely defeated, Bea turned away, absentmindedly tracing the horizon line through the window in deep thought, one arm folded over the other...

She could still feel Allie’s hand there...

“Then I’ll tell you what _I_ know, what _I_ see. “ – Franky tried again, voice softening. “You obviously miss her. You wouldn’t be the poster child for depression and broken heart right now if you didn’t. You’re a mess, just like this place—“

“Seriously, you’re one to judge _my_ mess?” – Bea halfway turned around just to bite back sarcastically.

„Tone down the attitude, Red, jeez. You do realize you never got like this over anyone, right?”

She hated the “makes-perfect-sense” version of Franky. It was the rarest of them all, but when it did make its logical appearance, it came out big time, all guns blazing.

“What do you want me to say right now, Franky?”

Bea hated being anywhere near that crossfire. Or, even worse, the primary target. Because this version of her best friend also happened to have perfect aim.

“Nothing I need to hear, you don’t have to convince me of anything. I know you don’t do talking, but I’mma need you to do some listening then. So, ya think ya can just hear me out for two seconds?”

“Will that get you off my back?”

“Please, you looove me there—“

“Point, Franky. Point. Get to it.”

With a drawn-out, exasperated sigh, Franky got up from her seat, too, then gently turned Bea around, hazel eyes twinkling with a touch of compassion underneath the usual layer of annoyance. She then proceeded to forcefully sit her down on the couch like you’d do with the world’s most stubborn child.

“Whatever you feel for Allie…” – she kneeled before her, running her thumb over Bea’s hand comfortingly. „You know it’s okay, right?”

Bea was pretty sure she could count all the times she called her _“Allie”_ unironically on one hand. If she dropped the nicknames, that meant business. And, by now, even hearing her real name come from someone else’s lips hurt, it was torturous enough even without her best friend’s honest look piercing right through her.

“Whether that’s friendship or something more.”

Her words cut through even deeper.

“I’ve seen you around her, don’t even try to lie to me, we don’t do that shit. “

Bea’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, no sound coming out. She tried to say something, _anything_.

“You never looked at anyone the way I’ve seen you look at her.”

She had nothing.

By this point, she shouldn’t even be surprised…

“If it’s about labels, forget about it, gay, straight, bi, these things don’t have to define you, not unless you want them to. And it’s not even what matters right now. It’s the last thing that does.”

“Franky—“

“What matters is how you feel, whatever that is, just let yourself feel it. You know, my uh..” – the smitten brunette cleared her throat...and the next words that followed couldn’t have been spoken with more pride. „ _My wife_...”

“You never get tired of saying that...” – Bea mumbled, lips curving upwards into a strained, but genuine smile. „Do you...?”

“I’ll say it until the entire world hates me.” - Franky beamed back, fondly, fumbling with her ring unconsciously.

“You don’t need to try that hard, just be you—“

“No insult’s gonna stop me from making my point, Red, try again.”

Bea opened her mouth....

“Not an invitation, _moron_...”

Then closed it...

„I still need you to shut up or I’m sewing your stupid lips myself.”

_And you’ll never get to kiss blondie._

This time, Bea did shut up. She knew _that_ look and what it meant. If she didn’t, _her_ bones would be on the outside of her body now.

“To rehash…” – the newly-wed continued, just in time to match Bea’s pointed eye-roll. “My wife has this saying she uses in her counseling sessions – _„If you’ve fallen for someone then…fuck the labels.”_

_Fallen for someone?_

“What, you thought you’re the only one who’s ever been through something like this?” – Franky read her unspoken thoughts, mildly amused by the unadulterated shock and disbelief staring back at her...

Because Bea still couldn’t entertain the thought…a very _scary_ thought - that it wasn’t unrequited, it was _mutual._

“People go to therapy for it…because someone, at some point, decided it’s wrong.”

The redhead looked down, sadly…she never stopped to think of it this way…

“But it’s not. And it doesn’t feel that way to you, does it…Allie?”

Whatever she thought the flower girl to be, it could _never_ be even in the neighborhood of wrong...

Allie always felt.... _right_ to her.

“So you _can_ call her Allie, too, huh?”

Yet she was still…deflecting.

„Oh, I’m sorry, you think only you’re allowed to call your woman by her real name? Territorial again, are we?”

_My woman._

“Jesus Christ—“

_Woman._

“So you do have some color in those cheeks after all, Red—“

_Mine._

“It’s not that she’s a…w-well a _she._..” – Bea stumbled all over her words, fidgeting with her sleeves again. „Okay, maybe that, too but it’s…nevermind.”

“…the first time anyone does that for you?”

Bingo…

“First time you feel a million things at once?”

Bingo again…

“Yeah, join the feeling club, Red, there’s like a billion of us.” – the brunette downed a generous amount of her coffee, waving her hand around matter-of-factly. „It’s gonna suck, it’s gonna be messy, but it’s also gonna be the best thing that ever happens to you. And God knows you deserve it.”

Bea’s features softened...

“Really, Doyle, getting sappy on me?”

Her words had yet to follow...

“I’m trying to help, _ass._ ” – Franky glared. „And in case you’re still confused about goldilocks, I got something for ya.”

With that, the newly-wed pointed to the yellow envelope resting on Bea’s couch that she didn’t even bother to notice before.

„Told you I come bearing gifts.”

“Really, a trip down memory lane?” -  Bea’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes quickly skimming over the various wedding photos within, from the impromptu ceremony to the afterparty with a fragrant disinterest. „Haven’t we talked about your wedding enough--”

Franky sighed....

“Look again.”

She reluctantly complied, going over each frame more attentively. She almost mustered a half-smile at a drunk Boomer belting on stage passionately, followed by an affectionate Maxine ruffling Franky’s hair, then giving her bunny ears...

„These are all sweet, Franky but I...I don’t—”

_Get what I’m looking for._

The words barely passed her lips when she reached the last photo, like a missing puzzle piece she’s been striving to find forever and didn't even know she's been searching for in the first place. Her breath hitched in her throat, tears coating her eyes unnoticed once again, underneath a growing, ever-lasting warmth she never reserved for anyone else...

It was of her and Allie.

„Just something to think about..”

Bea’s trembling fingers moved on their own accord, hesitantly tracing _her_ features with more affection than she thought was possible to hold for another person...it was such a simple moment...and yet so preciously captured. The blonde was gushing about some Netflix show and she was watching in silent awe and maybe a touch of amusement....because Allie was rambling passionately and her eyes held that familiar, almost blinding shimmer, drawing her in.

Maybe all this time, they did because they were looking at her...

And now Bea was seeing a similar spark in hers....was _that_ always there, too?

“....maybe frame someday too for your little flowery children—“

“D-do you want to get kicked out of my house right now?” – Bea threatened with half the fire she intended to give, color rushing to her cheeks again. „Cause _that’s_ how you get kicked out of my house—“

Franky smirked, all-knowingly..

Bea pretended not to notice...

Until her best friend’s mannerisms and facial expression switched dramatically, hand coming up to rest against her thigh, gently drawing her attention again..

„Have you ever heard of the saying.... _you can only be fixed by what’s broken you_?”

But how could Allie have broken her?

“No, no…” – she shook her head, frantically. „Allie didn’t…do anything wrong, okay?”

Nothing Allie did ever hurt…and she could pinpoint real pain better than anyone else.

It was then that it hit Bea – _she_ hurt herself.

“Then why won’t you talk to her?”

“Because I don’t know what to say…”

As soon as the truth came out, striking her with lightning force, Franky’s hands found hers to stop her from fumbling anxiously...

She didn’t even realize she was.

“How about you start with what you’ve just told me?”

“I…” – she choked, eyes flickering to the kitchen again, searching for Allie’s frame like the compass she never knew she needed.. „I can’t.”

Maybe it was all Allie did since the day they met – point her the right way.

_I don’t deserve her._

Bea had no idea she just said…. _that_ out loud, either.

“But do you want her?”

The million dollar question…

“All I do is hurt her.”

“It’s not what I asked..”

It wasn’t an answer.

For her best friend, it was… _all_ the answers.

“You know, Red…” – Franky deflected, switching tactics on purpose. “My vows, do you have any idea how many times I wrote them?”

“Hmmm…7, maybe, give or take?”

“Not even close…” – the brunette chuckled, heartily. „25. I’m not even kidding. There were papers scattered _everywhere_ \--"

Bea managed a laugh, too, sound coming out so foreign now.

She didn’t want to stop and think of the last time she laughed... _.with_ Allie.

 _That_ felt like a million light years away, too…

„And I had to throw them out so Gidge wouldn’t find them, yeah?” – Franky’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. „And nothing I had sounded right…wanna know why?”

“You’ll tell me anyway, won’t you?”

“Because the words only came when I looked at her.” – the newly-wed sighed, dreamily. „ So what you heard at the wedding…it wasn’t rehearsed…I forgot everything I wrote before.“

„How am I not surprised?”

„Because everything I wrote before _sucked_.”

The brunette graciously ignored her intervention. Because, by this point, she suspected she was getting somewhere. And she wasn’t wrong. Bea might be the world’s most stubborn child...and she might hate talking...

But if there was anything she was known for, it was being a good _listener._

„It was what I thought she wanted to hear…not what I really wanted to say.”

Was that why she hasn’t said a word to Allie in weeks? Because she was afraid whatever she had to say _wasn’t_ what Allie wanted to hear…?

“’But when I saw her, the right words came. It was so… _.easy.”_

“I’m not you, Franky.”

“I’m not asking you to be. And she’s not asking you to be anything you don’t want to be, either, trust me.”

Bea’s eyes shone with even more unshed tears now…because Allie _never_ asked anything of her.

All she did was give…and all Bea did was take. She felt sick.

“If you ask me, there’s _nothing_ you can say that will feel wrong to her.”

Franky was dead wrong. Her track record on that happened to be flawless...

„Anything’s better than silence, you know? Because I’m pretty sure she’s beating herself up over this even more than you.”

If her heart was a warzone throughout this whole thing, she didn’t want to even imagine the state of Allie’s…before _or_ now.

“Y-you think?”

“I know…”

“Wait…” – Bea trailed off, eyeing her suspiciously. „How _do_ you?“

“Don’t crush my bones....” – Franky put her hands up in the air in fearful surrender. „I uh...might’ve given this envelope to blondie, too...”

“Wait, what?” – Bea blinked a few times, causing her best friend to tilt her head back comically like a scaredy cat.

„...I-I mean, hypothetically-speaking--”

„Why didn’t you start with that, _Einstein?”_ – she sprung from her seat with the speed of an arrow, smacked Franky over the back of the head, then grabbed her by the collar, all in one motion _._ „Y-you, you saw Allie? When did you see Allie? How is she? Is she alright--”

_Does she hate me?_

“Wow, so you do have some fire in there too, _gloomy_.”

Bea glared icily, prompting (more like forcing) her to continue.

“Two days ago. Tried to be nice and chirpy enough but she ain’t foollin’ nobody, especially me. She didn’t look too rosy....“ - Franky gestured vaguely with her arms. „Sad lil petals of doom falling all over the joint. Ugh – depressing. Her flower was all crumpled, if you know what I—“

“That’s it, I’m kicking you out of my house—“

“You know, Red...” – she ran her tongue over her teeth, suggestively. „You have a great pair, but you really, and I mean _really_ need to calm those tits sometime—“

“Door or window?” – Bea towered over her, grabbing her by the collar again. „I can put you through both. Just say the word—“

“Fine, fine, that was the last one.”

Bea released her...reluctantly.

„She looked like someone took a dump in her cornflakes too, just completely out of it. So I flirted with her, right, big time, turned on the ol’ Doyle charm with some of this extra newly-wed glow you see sprinkled all over me and....” – the brunette paused for dramatic effect...followed by sheer  _outrage._ „Nothing. She ignored me.”

“Really, Franky, _that’s_ what bothered you?”

“She kept spacing out and staring at this stupid flower like she was in a trance or something. Really?” – Franky crossed her arms, indignantly, grumbling even more. „A 10 walks in and you’re gonna do that?”

Bea only heard _one_ thing.

“Wait…rewind...”

There was something she needed to know…something _important._

„W-what flower?”

“I don’t know…what’s it matter, the point is she--”

“Focus, Franky, it’s important—“

“Rose I think?”

“R-red rose…?”

Bea’s already frail voice scaled down into a _tortured_ whisper...

“Yeah...how’d you know?”

Allie _still_ loved her...

“Hey...”

The flashbacks came, no notice, no warning, her best friend’s voice so far away, nothing more than a muffled echo, drowned by everything else ringing in her head...

Allie _still_ loved her... even now...when she deserved the opposite and nothing _but_ the opposite.

„Where’d you go just now?”

“N-nowhere…”

“You’re crying.”

“I’m…not.”

“Come here, come on…” - Franky reached over, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, as she broke down completely. “Bring it in…I won’t say a thing about it tomorrow, I promise.”

“You’d better not...”

„Who am I gonna say anything to?” – the brunette stifled a chuckle, rubbing her back, comfortingly. „No one’s gonna believe me, _idiot._..”

„Good....” – the redhead let go, wiping her eyes quickly, in a hopeless attempt to dismiss their presence. „Because it didn’t happen.“

„If you must know, Red....I’m pretty sure the only time she smiled was when she looked at that flower…And trust me, I know how to make ‘em smile, I never get ignored. Clearly wasn’t me. That and she has no taste in women, that’s why she’s into you..”

Bea laughed, the action only bringing _more_ tears to her eyes.

“God, it’s like you’re the same person, it’s nauseating.”

“What?”

“You and Allie.”

“H-how so?”

“She got the same…” – Franky gestured airly with her arm, pointing to Bea’s...general direction. “Stupid dopey glazy eyes you did just now looking at that picture, too.”

Aaand....moment over.

“Just talk to her, Red. Leather jacket, trust me. If you want _Rosy O’Sadness_ to drool all over you—“

“Jesus, Franky. You know, for a second there, I really fell for it, really thought married life turned you into less of a pig but noooo--”

“Flannel if you dig her, too. “ – the brunette lifted a pointed finger in the air, smirking. “Honor my people.”

“Ughhhh”

“But if you don’t....” – her voice wavered on purpose, daring Bea to go ahead and prove her wrong...

She didn’t.

„She’ll understand, trust me. She’d be an idiot not to wanna still be in your life, one way or the other.”

_I don’t want **her** to understand_

_**I** want to understand._

"If that’s what you still want, too...”

 _Did_ she want Allie in her life?

“But if you ask me, I think you do. You just need to find out in what way. And whatever you decide, you’ll be fine…”

Bea wasn’t so sure.

“….you weepy dumbass.”

With that last affectionate insult, Franky hugged her forcefully again, ruffling her hair. For once, Bea was too shattered to oppose her.

“I’ll leave you to it. Don’t overthink it, Red.” – she added in a softer, almost motherly tone, fingers morphing into a pistol gun against Bea’s head. „You spend too much time in here.”

_Easier said than done._

“Thanks, Franky.”

“That’s why you have me.”

“Oh and Red?” – Franky called out from the door, wiggling her eyebrows...innocently. “Never ditch me again....”

She _almost_ got it right...

„Unless it’s to make sweet sweet lady love to your little—“

“Oh get out of my house already.”

Until Bea threw a pillow at her face, missing her by an inch.

Maybe she was getting... _rusty._

“And fix this mess, it’s depressing.”

Franky wasn’t _just_ referring to her house...was she?

Once she was left alone with her thoughts again, she knew she needed to leave. Because whatever answers she was looking for, she wouldn’t find them in this house. She drank the rest of her coffee, took a shower and changed, giving in to this driving impulse to put on a _particular_ outfit…and yes, it was flannel, courtesy of Franky’s birthday present, but not just _any_ flannel. Fiery red and black.

It was what she wore that day, the day that started everything.

_Hey, rough morning?_

_Believe it or not, you’re the best part of it._

Same Franky would have a field day if she knew that particular detail, too. The irony wasn’t lost on her – aside from the obvious connotations of flannel, there was even more symbolism she hated now.

She wore red, because that’s what she was – fire and brimstone, and Allie wore white, like the angel she never deserved.

And maybe this outfit was her way of feeling close to Allie again, of going back to a simpler time before she messed everything up…she had no idea a particular someone had the same thought in mind, the same wardrobe choice…once the red rose stopped working. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was divine intervention again.

She moved out the door, keys clicking into place, feet clashing against the pavement before she even knew where she was going....

Allie was right there with her, every step of the way...as always.

_“There’s just something about it that makes me **happy** …I mean there’s lights outside, ice-cream, the beach, upbeat music...”_

_“(So…this your **happy** place?) Present company excluded?”_

This is what the flower girl’s been trying to say all along…that sharing all of those things with her made her happy, that _she_ made her happy…

_“….I’m just doing my noble job on this Earth, to deliver **happiness.** “_

All Allie wanted was to return the favor…and Bea never told her she did.

Allie made her the happiest she’s been in years…in less than 24 hours…and maybe far earlier before that…

_„I don’t care. I could watch paint dry as long as it’s with **someone I like**.”_

_„Anyone would be **lucky to do this with you** , for the record.”_

_„I won’t regret a thing… **you’re here** with me.”_

_„ **Thank you** for doing this with me.”_

_„No matter what you think…I’m pretty sure this was **the best day of my life**.”_

Was that what it felt like for her….like _a date?_

_„Dream date?”_

_„Sorry, I just…I don’t know.”_

Or was that what Allie tried to give….to _her?_

Because she sensed no one else has?

_“I’m sure you can think of a million other people you’d rather do this with—“_

Only Allie never knew…

Bea only wanted to do this with her, too…

20 days, 14 hours and 30 minutes....and her journey reached a screeching halt.. or maybe a much needed crossroads.

Her feet led her somewhere like they knew a path she didn’t…and when she found herself lying on the beach on the same spot she stayed with _her_ what felt like a lifetime ago, the sand and the waves ahead spoke even more, like they never have before…there had to be a reason why Allie took her there, too. This place _had_ to be special to her…

_"You’re special to me.”_

Allie shared it with her…because _she_ was special to Allie…

Everything she was trying to speak of before and she didn’t hear then…

She was hearing it now. 

_„I don’t do speeches, Bea.”_

_„I’m not good with words.”_

_„How she deserves to hear words like that, too..”_

_„...no one bothered to give them to her before?”_

_„_ _It’s spending half of your life surrounded by flowers and then….seeing someone walk in and realizing they’re more beautiful than every single one of them.”_

If only Allie knew she had done just that…

Given her _all_ the words…

_“Everyone deserves that, even if just for a day… **the fairytale**.”_

_“(Fairytales aren’t real, Allie.) Then **I’ll give** them **the closest thing to it**.”_

That’s what Allie wanted to do all day…and not just for Franky and Bridget, but for _her_ , too…

She could’ve had fun with anyone, it wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed at least a dozen women checking her out during the party, shooting seductive looks, fawning over her, trying to get her attention...

She never saw a thing.

Because Allie was only looking at her…

_"I take my designated plus-one role very seriously, Bea.”_

Allie tried to make weddings better for her…

And she did…

_“Don’t worry, I got you.”_

_“…whatever you think you deserve…you’re wrong. It’s not that. It’s better.”_

_“…you can always lean on me.”_

_“We’re in this together.”_

_“I want you to know you didn’t deserve it. Any of it.”_

Allie didn’t just make weddings better...

She made  _everything_  better.

_“Are you calling me a romantic, Ms. Smith? I am no such thing…”_

She was wrong….she was a perfect romantic all night, too. No matter how hard it had to have been for her, she did it unconditionally.

It wasn’t the first time...

It all started with a rose...

 _" **I never**_ **_had any of that_ , ** _anyone trying to pick the right floral arrangement for me or even ask what my favorite flower is. So it’s nice to **do it for someone else,** y’know?”_

 _„_ _One more thing._ _..._ ** _for you."_**

_„ Not just any flower. It’s **a** **red rose** …even if you can’t see the red.”_

_„P.S. Thank you, A.”_

That’s what flowers were to her… her way of relating to the world, her way of communicating...

Her love language…

 _“…_ **_the flowers had stopped coming_ ** _…”_

 _“…_ **_stopped loving me_ **_altogether…”_

_“…I **don’t want the flowers to stop** for anyone else…”_

_"The_ ** _flowers should keep coming for you_  **, _too.”_

_“Good thing you know the finest flower girl in all of Sydney, right?”_

Was that Allie's way of saying she never wanted to stop loving her….even if everyone else did?

Bea’s head was swirling now…

How long has she felt this way…?

 _"I guess I just_ _like_ _flowers. They’re pretty and **they make people** **happy**..”_

Was that was she was asking...for Bea to let her…. _try_ _?_

With every recollection, louder and so much clearer than ever, Bea's quiet whimpers were rapidly turning into choked cries…she vaguely registered the wetness in her eyes and on her cheeks….she didn’t make a single opposing gesture, she put up no resistance anymore…because she knew they wouldn’t stop falling anytime soon.

Her words didn’t stop coming, either…

_" **Please fix me**. (I’m gonna try, no promises…)”_

_“If anyone can fix me, it’s gotta be you.”_

_“(I fixed your head, dork.)_ _Pretty sure you’re fixing more than that.”_

_" **Thank you for fixing me** …”_

Allie's words didn’t hurt. They were fixing her now, too…

But she was wrong again…it was the other way around. It was _always_ the other way around…

_“Don’t you see it, Bea? It’s beautiful."_

She was seeing it now....

And it was...it really was.

 _"I think they’re making a_ ** _promise_ ** _to each other.”_

 _„Pinkie_ ** _promise_ ** _...so you know I mean business.”_

 _"Do you trust me? Not a trick question…_ **_I promise_ ** _.”_

Was that Allie’s way of showing commitment…her promise?

 _"But please... don’t hurt me too much._ **_Promise me_** _?”_

_(I don’t want to hurt you.)”_

Bea didn’t hold on to hers…

 _She_ failed…

 _"Seahorses like to swim in pairs…they link tails_ ** _so they don’t lose each other_ ** _.”_

 _“And if they had any words to speak, they’d say_ **_-_ ** _**I don’t want to lose you** .(…) _ **_I’m choosing you_ ** _(…) you‘re it for me.”_

Allie already chose her…like seahorses.

_"I don’t think it’s something you choose, it just happens…”_

She didn’t choose to fall in love with her….no one ever does...

“…. _but once it does _.._ **that’s when you make your choice** _– to stick through everything with that one person.”__

But she chose to stay.

She chased her all night….the one time Bea had to return the favor, she couldn’t…

Allie didn’t give up on her…

But  _she_  gave up on Allie...

 _“It doesn’t always go so well. But I guess it did because t-they…they love each other so much, you know?_ _That’s what made everything fall into place.”_

Could it really be that simple…?

 _“Maybe that’s all you need to_ **_get it right_.** _”_

 _“….it can be a fairytale…with_ ** _the right person_ ** _, I think everything is. “_

Was that what Allie meant...that _she_ was the right one for her?

_"They made each other happy, Bea…they didn’t need me.”_

Maybe they didn’t...

But  _she_  needed Allie…

_“…..that makes me qualify as your **friend,** right?”_

_“So I can be your **friend** …if that’s what you want from me..”_

As a friend....?

_“Whatever this is for you…”_

_“I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, you know that, right?”_

Allie was never  _just_  her friend….not then and definitely not now.

Her voice was the heartbreakingly enticing soundtrack keeping her afloat…even now. Her face was still haunting her sleepless dreams. Through every turmoil of emotions, in spite of any doubts stubbornly resurfacing, Allie was her constant.

Another tear, another ragged breath…and something else dawned on her..

If she hadn’t rattled the blonde that night…or if Franky hadn’t done the same on her wedding day…she wouldn’t have said anything. She would have buried this…for _her_ sake. She would have loved her from afar and not said a single goddamn word even if it killed her…

**Speak now or forever hold your peace.**

She would have held her peace…

Because that’s who Allie was…

_“… **I can go** if you want…”_

_“I don’t belong here, **I should go** ….it’s the respectful thing to do.”_

_“If not, just **say the word and I’m out of your life** after tonight. No questions asked.“_

All she wanted was to give her a fairytale day and walk away.

All she wanted was to be a good plus-one.

And dear God, she was…

_"I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not fair.”_

_“Nonsense, I didn’t do anything.”_

And she thought she wasn’t…

Allie never knew just how much she did…

_"You have nothing to be sorry for.”_

Bea had _everything_ to be sorry for.

Not a single word she knew was close enough to what Allie deserved from her…or what Allie already gave her. She didn’t deserve someone like her anyway. That’s why she didn’t seek her out...for days upon days stretching into weeks.

That’s why she  _never_  said anything.

But she still saw her, in every corner of her house and every space in between her heart and mind, once hollow, now effortlessly filled, like she was merely claiming a place willingly given a while ago…like she belonged there. And when she looked to the steps, she could feel her fingertips on her jaw like they touched her yesterday, lips mere inches away, hovering a breath away from hers, the memory of that fire in Allie’s eyes _still_ setting her aflame..

_„Always gotta have the last word...don’t you, Bea?”_

And every fiery blaze of ardent _want_ only shed more light in her…

She didn’t just invite Allie to her house after the wedding to apologize or make it up to her because she felt guilty for the way she acted…she wanted to be with Allie…and _just_ Allie, away from everything else….she couldn’t let her go home. And she couldn’t go home without her, either.

Because she had no home without her.

Because Allie  _was_  her home.

_„People say thank you to compliments...do I need to go through all of that again?”_

She didn’t step back when Allie stepped closer to her and seemed to want to kiss her because she wanted Allie to get the hint and stop….it was because she  _didn’t_  want Allie to stop. 

She needed her. That’s what it was. In that moment, she needed her more than the very air she breathed…it was all the ways she did that frightened her so much she was rendered speechless.

Because she  _never_  needs anyone.

But she  _needed_  Allie.

„ _...or are you getting the message now?”_

She was getting all of them...

And yet…Allie apologized, twice.

As if her love was an inconvenience.

As if  _she_  was an inconvenience.

_„But do you want her…?”_

She couldn’t get Franky’s question out of her head…

And when she looked at that envelope resting on her counter with a brand new set of eyes, the final answer struck, like a sledgehammer....and it didn’t come from Allie anymore…

It came from _her._

Maybe all this time, she was so busy observing Allie, she never stopped to notice all the ways she was looking at Allie in return. Or maybe, on some level, she knew. She just didn't want to believe it.

But she was seeing it now, through someone else's lens - impartial, objective, detached. Not her best friend, not her voice in her head painting a picture, not even the voice of her own insecurity dictating a skewed perception.

Franky was right - she never looked at anyone the way she looked at her.

But it wasn't that part which terrified her the most. Everyone should look at Allie like that, not just her. The entire world should see her that way.

What scared her were all the ways Allie gazed at her right back.

She traced every contour of her features across the frame, fondly, longingly even, aching to _feel_ her, _touch_ her…if only she could give the woman inside that same courtesy.

It was the only picture of Allie she had....and she didn't want that to be her last memory of her. Because it was one she wasn't worthy of in a million years.

Because no one should look at her like that. 

And yet... _she_ was.

And whatever Allie saw, Bea didn't.

 _She_ should love Allie. It made all the sense in the world.

But Allie shouldn't love _her_. It made no sense, in any conceivable world.

So then why did she?

Bea needed answers.

Right now.

And there was only one person who could give them to her.

So she ran all the way to Allie’s shop…

So she ignored the _“Closed sign”_ because she knew better. Allie  _had_  to be there.

So she barged through her door like her life depended on it…

A little broken, a little out of breath, a little short on faith…

“Allie, I need to talk to you.  _ **Now.** ”_


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In the famous words of one Rihanna….this is what you came for. :) 
> 
> Their outfits:
> 
> \- Bea -https://bit.ly/2ZtLbu1  
> \- Allie – https://bit.ly/2ksbqAT + a red tie (go with me on this one - #symbolism and all)

She didn’t even know how she got there. She couldn’t remember.

The events of the last hour passed like summer rain and blasting thunder, all at once. Fast-paced, blurry and mixed, every frame merged into a fleeting movie sequence, from the envelope slipping past shaky hands down to the floor, to the sound of keys haphazardly clicking into place again, body sliding past a distant crowd of stranger faces she couldn’t make up a single detail of…

Hectic actions stacked into a roaring crescendo, matching, perhaps even rivaling the one in her mind. The aftermath of Allie’s words, still so tragically _undeserved_ hovered above, echoes calm and soothing akin to a lullaby eclipsing everything she ever thought to be important. It was the only harmony she had now, amongst the off-beat sound of her feet clashing against the pavement, a chaotic rhythm that was uniquely hers…

Allie was poetic beauty.

 _She_ was unrestrained commotion...

Ground shook and trembled beneath her feet, every low rumble leading her here, now…storming through the blonde’s office like a wild hurricane, sweeping everything in its path.

No grace. No discretion. Only a compass and a destination.

And when the door creaked wide open, there she was.

_Allie._

Back turned on her, writing something down on her smart-board. Bea only saw grace and refinement in her motions as always, the elegant curve of her back even more defined in that…outfit. Snow white cotton floating against slender arms, black satin hugging delicate hips. It was one she knew every detail of vividly…because it wasn’t the first time she looked. This time, however, she was also… _seeing._

She was pretty sure her heart skipped one too many beats for it to be healthy.

“Allie, I need to talk to you. **Now**. _”_

And when the blonde’s head spun at the sound of her voice, Allie only saw red, fiery and explosive, flashing across her eyes, settling behind her optic nerve. For a moment there, her heart responded all the same, much like the day she walked in her salon, a little sleep-deprived, a little scared, a little _broken_. She recognized _her_ outfit, too. It nearly shattered her resolve, led her back to simpler times. She _almost_ allowed herself to see Bea as her soul-mate again, see them both as two sides of the same coin…which was what she always thought to be true, _knew_ to be true.

Not anymore.

Whoever _that_ Allie was…she was long gone now.

Because whoever was looking at her now…never looked at her this way before.

When her gaze fully settled on Bea, a million contrasting emotions flared in Allie’s eyes, some she could identify, others she couldn’t, until they all vanished into _nothingness._

A guarded, empty stare followed.

Bea felt it down to her bones.

She gulped, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, no sound coming out. It wasn’t long before _she_ broke the silence, instead.

And when she spoke, what came out was…

"What can I do for you.. _..Ms. Smith?”_

Whatever Bea expected to hear…it wasn’t _that._

It wasn’t that familiar pair of once soulful blue eyes staring her down so…. _blankly._

Detached, flawless professional smile set in stone, Allie put the marker down slowly, with a practiced calm, one a certain frenzied redhead who was one breath away from passing out wouldn’t have any of.

“How may I assist you this fine morning?” – she went on to ask, courteously.

Bea was just about to meet another shade of Allie, one she most definitely didn’t come prepared for – passive-aggressive. She blinked once or twice rapidly, the abrupt change giving her whiplash.

“Talk to me…” - she readjusted her pose, voice faltering ever-so-slightly as she crossed the room. “For starters…”

She never imagined it would be so hard to respect the invisible boundaries the blonde just set, but she was maintaining a respectable distance…one that felt stiflingly unnatural.

“I am. Good enough start for ya, _bossy?"_

So was _this._

She wasn’t equipped to handle this side of Allie, either.

“Two words, how generous...” – Bea bit back, sarcastically, failing to drown that subtle hint of hurt that came along with it. “ _Ms_. Novak.”

It was going _so_ well already.

Allie only scoffed at her….two times now.

“Look...” – the redhead fixed her collar, taking a deep, not even halfway calming breath, resolve wavering, hope diminishing. Because whatever momentum she seemed to have earlier was simmering down dramatically, with every passing second. “I’m done with this, okay…?”

It was infuriating to see Allie so put together when she was one step away from falling apart.

“I’m not…I’m not letting you just...disappear on me, alright?” – she continued, pacing back and forth in front of her. “Let’s talk about this—“

Bea then gestured hectically between them with her right hand.

But Allie stayed right where she was, arms folded firmly against each other, watching her completely unfazed.

“What do you want me to say, Bea?”

_Anything._

_What do you want from me?_

Her tone came eerily neutral, indifferent almost, but the subtle clenching of her jaw and stiffness in her posture told a very different story.

“Why are you even here?”

So was her voice elevating in pitch and the crushing weight it carried.

Bea felt _that_ , too.

_Where else would I be?_

_You made it clear you don’t want to see me anymore._

“To talk to you, I _just_ said it.”

Make that…scoff number 3.

“I don’t have anything else to say, alright?” – Allie shook her head, voice drenched in painful… _finality._  “I said too much, anyway.”

All Bea wanted to say was..

_You haven’t said too much, I said too little._

Instead, all that came out was a trembling, breathless..

“Allie…”

“And this...” – the blonde cut in, motioning between them back, stifled frustration creeping in unannounced _,_ like slow-burning fire _._ ”Is  _obviously_ going to take some time for me so if you could just—“

_Leave and not make it harder._

Leave. She knew that was what Allie wanted to say.

She wasn’t mad at Allie for wanting her gone - she was mad at herself because all she wanted now was to stay..

The flower girl was slipping away from her grasp with every passing second now when she wasn’t even close enough to touch in the first place. Or, maybe she was wrong, Allie always was - she just needed to reach out. Instead, she drove her away.

“I gave you that.”

It _killed_ her that she didn’t know how to get her back. When she thought she knew Allie like no one else.

“Three weeks of radio silence, how generous of you.” – she scoffed, resentment slipping into her tone uninvited yet again. “Gee, thanks for doing that, by the way…for _me._ ”

It was a low blow. She knew it – she regretted it the moment she said it. And no matter how many of those Bea took in the past – physical and emotional - none of them stung quite like this. Because _she_ brought this side of Allie out, _she_ made the sun go down.

“Do you always dish out kind favors like that or am I just _that_ special? _"_

And Allie had all the right in the world to rain down on her now. But not even the most venomous words the flower girl had on her disposal could ever come close to what she already thought of herself.

_You’re special to me._

No one could ever hate Bea Smith….as much as Bea Smith herself.

“Pretty sure _you_ ’ve been avoiding _me_ , not the other way around so--”

Sometime in between, Allie had grabbed the marker again. Now she was punctuating her words with it, stifled aggressiveness and hurt under every move, before turning to the blackboard again, dead-set on ignoring her.

“How about you at least answer something for me, think you can manage that, _snarky?"_

But Bea wasn’t about to back down either. No matter how many of those Allie had. Because she was also right. No matter how much the truth hurt.

“And then I’m gone…”

“Alright, fine.”

She didn’t even ponder…she answered immediately.

Maybe Allie _did_ want her gone…

Bea gulped painfully, the tightness in her throat choking her, making it hard to even swallow, let alone breathe. She could live with a lot of things, but she couldn’t live with _that_ thought.

“Go ahead...” – Allie halfway turned around, making a sweeping move with her hand. “I’m listening.”  - she added, crossing her arms again, clutching the marker by her side even more, unconsciously.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Allie blinked once or twice, tilting her head to the side in confusion…

“Why me..”

“I’m not…I’m not following—“

Bea’s fragile, _tortured_ voice tore all the anger out of her.

“I need to know, okay, w-what you said, I--”

Like it wasn’t even there in the first place…

When realization dawned on Allie, she read between every shaky word. As her posture faltered and her expression softened – a fleeting reminder of _before_ \- Bea clung to it like a lifeline. For a moment there, she thought Allie would never look at her like that ever again. She’s never been more relieved to be proven wrong.

Because, like Franky, Allie _too_ was starting to see what the real issue was.

“.. when y-you…why _me_ , I don’t get it—“

_I can’t see what you see._

“Why _not_ you?”

One question Bea didn’t once think to entertain, amongst the millionth others reigning chaos and destruction in her head. One that took her completely off guard, left her reeling under Allie’s stormy gaze…

“W-well I—“

Same Allie walking towards her now with eerily calm motions, still spinning every shallow breath she took into a whirlwind…

“What’s _not_ to love?”

 _Love_ …there goes that word again.

It came out so impulsively from her lips, _matter-of-factly_ even _,_ like a universal truth, mouth still set into a firm, stern line…even when her eyes spoke of so much more.

“Go on then.. “ – she added, taking another determined step, the steady click of her approaching heels on the floor matching every rapid pulse of Bea’s heart…”Name it.”

Even _now_ , they were in sync.

Even _now,_ they were linked together…

Bea thought of the artwork downstairs…

Until Allie stopped right beside her, staring her down in a way she couldn’t quite decipher, urging, _daring_ her to go ahead and prove her wrong.

“Because I haven’t found anything.”

All unspoken protests, ready to fire at any point died on the redhead’s lips…

“Well….?”

Bea choked, sliding backwards, fumbling with her sleeves anxiously…

Because Allie’s scrutinizing gaze still held a layer of warmth, comfort and overt _honesty_ , no matter how much she wanted to present the opposite. And Bea was pretty sure she didn’t even know. Her mind was racing with all possible answers, each more hurtful than the previous one. Because all she did was hurt herself. And all she heard was the sound of her own shortcomings, doubled by the entire world screaming in unison of how inadequate she truly was.

Only one word emerged, encompassing them all. And it was…

“E-everything?”

_“Nothing.”_

The entire world….aside from _her_. Because Allie never once saw any of that.

Because no one ever saw her the way Allie did.

Same Allie whose voice still carried an unintended _solemn_ undertone she only ever used on her, that single word dropping like a promise and a declaration yet again, the realization that she slipped causing her to backpedal, too.

Body shifting away, she switched her focus back to the board, grabbing the marker to finish writing again…as if whatever she had to write was more important than this conversation.

“And I’ll have you know I have perfect vision…”

It was at that precise moment Bea realized...she _loved_ Allie.

It could’ve been the most unusual one…or simply the _right_ one.

“…so get those eyes checked out sometime, will ya--“

Stubborn, childish, rambling, compassionate Allie.

And more beautiful than she’d ever know.

Maybe she never processed a conscious switch because there was nothing to switch from…she never knew how to _not_ love Allie, either…it was as natural as breathing. It didn’t come as a grand realization, it was simple clarity, a veil that had long been waiting to come off falling down at her feet..

“God, Allie…” – she exhaled, softly. “You _really_ need to learn when to shut up.”

While she came undone, bursting at the seams, Allie still held _something_ together…the same front that kept _her_ together for days on end…because she was trying her best not to fall apart again.

“Well _you’re_ not the boss of me. ” – the blonde scoffed, not even halfway convincingly, pointing at her nearly  _comically_ , her other hand resting on her hip, not that Bea was already staring in that direction or anything... “And I did what you asked. Now I got work to do.”

With that, she resumed her task, ignoring Bea like an ass…again.

“So if you’ll excuse me—“

_Is she for real right now?_

Bea sighed almost... _tenderly._ Because only _she_ would find this shade of Allie endearing, too.

Her mannerisms were identical to those of a mother still willing to forgive her problem child’s repeated misdemeanors. She was looking at this blonde _idiot_ scribbling meaningless notes with her back turned on her in a stiff, concrete posture like she painted every detail of the sky above with her own two hands…even if said problem child discarded any and all manners, then carelessly threw them out the window.

On any other day, Bea would have gladly thrown _her_ out that window with them.

Today wasn’t any day.

Instead, she moved closer and closer until there were only inches separating them, completely unfazed by Allie essentially dismissing her presence, still set in her resolve, writing down order dates like she wasn’t even there anymore.

Bea sighed again, even more lovingly now, wordlessly wrapping her arms around Allie’s waist from behind, freezing her mid-motion. Bea’s cheek came up to rest against her shoulder and her guard fell down to the floor...

_I need you._

“You’re such a child…”

She stayed there for a few invaluable moments and simply…. _listened._

To her shallow breathing blending with hers _,_ to Allie’s heartbeats gradually increasing in tempo, clashing rhythmically against her palm. Still not voicing a single word or shifting a single inch away from her, she just stood there, breathing her in. More than any other time, all she wanted was to feel her there, steady and real, close enough to touch.

It was selfish to need Allie now, to yearn for her like this, to embrace her as her only touch of color and softness in a harsh, unforgivable world painted in nothing but gruesome black and white.

It was selfish to crave the familiar warmth of Allie’s body against hers, to chase back the memory of her every curve, to ache for Allie to pull her closer and never let go when all she knew how to do since the day they met was the complete opposite.

 _She_ was selfish.

But she couldn’t stop.

“I’m n-not a child…”

“Course you are…”

Bea then slowly shifted only to trace every contour of Allie’s still extended arms with her own and bring them down, allowing them to rest limply by her sides, before gently taking the marker off her weak grasp and setting it aside, too. When she felt her pressed against her back, Allie let out a soft, surprised gasp, followed by a strong shudder. She simply melted as her body awakened then went numb, all in one breath.

She put up no resistance whatsoever.

Because she also caught a faint trace of her perfume, a scent that was etched onto her, ingrained, bringing forth even more damage now.

Allie could single it out from a million others.

Bea wore it the first time she walked in here.

_Don’t mind her, she’s getting married._

_Bea, Bea Smith._

_Well, in that case, you’ll have a very beautiful wedding._

The memory she was reliving made every lingering fight drain out of her.

“Come here...”

Said fight became utter surrender when Bea turned her around, stared at her with nothing but meaning, got up on her tip-toes, only to catch her in a warm embrace, holding Allie so cautiously it nearly destroyed her. The blonde drew in a sharp breath, then faltered altogether as her entire frame shook like a leaf then dropped helplessly, begging to be held but too stubborn to reciprocate. And it wasn’t long before every piece of her carefully constructed façade crumbled to dust, along with her already jagged heart.

“I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry.”

Her words fell like sharp needles and healing balm, all at once.

Allie didn’t return the gesture. She just stood there - motionless, powerless.

“I let you go and I didn’t _say_ anything—“

If only she knew how much she said without voicing a single word.

Allie paid attention, too.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, alright?” – she whispered weakly, touching both of her shoulders, prying her away, gently...

_It’s not okay._

This time around, it was only Bea’s thought…when it should’ve been Allie’s.

“Look…this is not y-your…your…” – the blonde nibbled on her bottom lip, wrestling with mixed thoughts, the action failing to drown her involuntary stutter. “ _Problem_ to fix or deal with or understand and I know you’ve probably been in your head for a while over it but you don’t have to do that anymore.”

Head shaking in dismay, she took another step back, forcing Bea’s hand to fall off her elbow…she didn’t even realize it came up to rest there, ghosting over silky skin, chasing her…

“Allie—“

Bea reluctantly took it back.

If only she could take back everything else, too…

“I mean it, Bea, you don’t owe me anything.”

_I owe you everything._

“….if anything, I do. And if you could just go ahead and ignore some of what I said and…be my friend? That’s more than enough, too.”

Allie was lying.

And Bea was shattered into a million pieces, forced to watch them drop one by one with a deafening thud. Because Allie felt compelled to hide and lie…to _her._ Which was what she did with everyone else. She could deal with anger, business fronts, hurtful words or even monumental silence.

But she wasn’t _everyone else._ She can’t have become _everyone else_ to Allie...the mere thought was unbearable.

“You know you have a…a thing in your eye.”

“Eyelash? Weird, I didn’t feel anything—“

“No, _idiot_ …” – Bea murmured, affectionately, a sly, barely perceptible smile tugging at her lips. “When you lie, you have a tell. And you’re lying to me right now. You don’t want to be my friend.”

_Just my friend._

Eyes shifting upwards, she studied her every reaction intently, wanting to see Allie’s face clearly as she said it. Like a deer caught in the headlights, the blonde averted her gaze, regretfully, casting a guilty look down to the floor.

She never could hide from her. Today was no exception.

“It’s not enough for you.”

“It…it can be. I can try.”

Despite her voice cracking, Allie _still_ said it with the certainty of seasons changing. Just like she knew summer was always bound to follow spring, she also knew it was all she ever wanted from her – the chance to try.

“I’d do anything for you...you know that, right?”

If Bea still had a soul left, it abandoned her stubborn body right there, staring her down from above, urging her to do _something_ to comfort this beautiful woman she never deserved in any way, shape or form, to fix it, just like the antsy, impatient Doyle tapping her foot rhythmically in her head. Or maybe, at this point, even that weird alter-ego was one step away from abandoning her altogether in sheer disappointment. She wouldn’t blame her.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter what _I_ want. “ – Allie let out a muffled sound that almost resembled laughter, striking Bea with the force of the world’s sharpest arrow and a degree of _hurt_ far beyond what her small frame could contain, dripping down at her feet.

Because Allie believed it.

“And it _shouldn’t_ matter—“

Because no one, not even once, seemed to have made her a priority.

“Why not?”

“It’s not important. “

Because no one, not even once, made her feel like _she_ was important…above everything else.

“….and it usually doesn’t. This isn’t my first rodeo so--”

Only difference? None of those _other_ rodeos held her heart in the palm of their hand, ready to break it or piece it back together with the slightest move if they so desired…

“Okay, alright, will you just stop being a martyr long enough to hear me out?”

“ _Speak now or forever hold your peace?"_ – Allie offered, weakly.

It was the first trace of a real smile Allie wore since she walked in here – breath-taking, light-bringing, it unraveled her inside. If she wasn’t so focused on what she needed to say, she would have stopped just to look.  She could do it…

_Forever._

But she couldn’t stop now. It was much too late for that.

So, she didn’t. Instead, she walked forwards, both hands coming up to find hers, thumb grazing along the smooth skin of her wrist, holding her in place…

“You’re not a problem to me, alright? You could never _be_ a problem to me.”

They seemed to fit her callous ones perfectly, like they were meant to find each other…

When hardly anything in her life fit. When nothing but _tragedy_ usually found her.

“And I’m not looking to fix you because there’s nothing that needs to be fixed.”

_You’re perfect to me._

“I don’t care who made you feel that way because they’re wrong, okay, they’re dead wrong—“

“Bea…”

“No, look at me. “ – she grabbed both sides of her face, fervently yet still so gently, forcing her downcast eyes to inch upwards. “I need you to listen to me _, please.”_

And when Bea’s hands moved lower, tilting her chin forwards, Allie’s eyes shut tight almost painfully…

“They’re wrong and I’m not them, okay? I’m not them.”

“Bea, y-you..” – Allie shivered under her touch…“You don’t have to do this.” …then denied it again, leaning back.

“Do what?”

“Try…for me. “ – she clarified, taking her hands down slowly, in spite of herself.  “It’s alright. I get it, you don’t feel that way about me and that’s okay. I told you I’m not…”

The flower girl then covered them with her own, running circular, soothing motions on her skin, still looking down as their fingertips danced together, still focused on _her_ and nothing else. Unlike last time, it didn’t calm Bea down or diminish her fire, not even the slightest bit.

Allie was hearing what she was saying but she wasn’t…. _listening._

“I’m not asking you to. I would never.”

Because her words were coming….too late. Allie had already created her own narrative and filled in the blanks with all the wrong things because she didn’t speak… _then._

She would speak _now_ – she’d force her weakened lungs to carry every ragged sound with her last breath if she had to.

“No, you _don’t_ get it. “

This time, she yanked her hands away herself, retreating with superhuman efforts just to breathe…before finally doing what she should’ve done a long time ago – take those efforts and throw them out the window.

She was finally chasing the sun.

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what---”

_What you mean to me._

One stride, one move and she found it, lighting up everything in her path.

“Did you…did you know that you’re the _only_ person who gave me flowers this past year? Other than Franky and my daughter?”

“W-wait…what?”

Because ever since Harry, she never once let anyone get close enough to even try…

“The only one, y-you’re the only one, Allie…”

She took another step closer to her, unaware of the tears forming in her eyes, pinning Allie down to that limited space and trapping her in more ways than she even knew.

“Or that you’re the _only_ person who made me understand what laughing until you forget about everything else actually means? Or that when I see you hurt it hurts _me_ more?”

And another one…

“Bea—“

“Or that you’re the _only_ reason why weddings don’t even seem so terrible to me now? Because you made everything about them better?”

And another…

“Bea--“

Until she stopped right beside her, silently begging her to _see_ it, if she still refused to listen.

Allie looked away.

“Cause it’s what you do, Allie, you make _everything_ better for me. You’re not my problem, alright, you’re my…my answer. And I couldn’t do a single thing for days but see you in everything and look for you everywhere..like a creep. Seriously, why do all blondes look like you from afar, I don’t get it—“

“W-well, we are not such a rare sight, statistically-speaking—“

And when Allie backpedaled, then put on her smug face, proud of her meaningless trivia knowledge, Bea felt the entire world crash on her shoulders. Because the message was still flying right over the blonde’s head. She was making jokes and laughing at them because that was her defense mechanism. She could use it on the whole world if she so desired, but she wasn’t about to let Allie use it on her.

“No, you are, okay, _you_ are.” – Bea tried again in a softer, fonder voice, despite still pacing back and forth, still one breath away from passing out. She had too much left to say and not enough time to do it. “And I haven’t been in my head because I’m trying to push you away or reject you, it’s not what I’m trying to say or do right now, I just—“

“Breathe, woman…before you catch fire.”

Now Allie was looking at _her_ hyperactive child like she hung the moon, latching onto her forearms to stop her nervous, restless movements.

“Oh, will you just shut _up--_ “ – Bea pulled herself away from her grasp, finally managing a proper glare that should’ve been directed at herself, instead, as she ran an angry hand through her hair. She _was_ running out of time, alright.

_You’re not hearing me._

Because Allie was still amused.

She wasn’t.

“Sorry, you just…sorry.” – the blonde extended a peace offering, still chuckling under her breath. “It’s just that…I think you’re really cute when you do all of your…” she gestured vaguely at Bea’s... _everything_ with her right arm. “w-well… _thing..._ ”

Allie then cracked a teasing smile just to get it out of her system, one that Bea almost reciprocated for 0.02 seconds. But she knew better – she saw right through the fake bravado and straight down into the depths of her soul. She knew what the florist was trying to do - deflect. Because she still rejected the words, downplayed them or resorted to any joke she had on hand that would make them seem less life-altering than they actually were. Not because she didn’t believe Bea meant them – she was petrified of how _much_ she meant them. The real reason was a lot more heartbreaking than that.

Allie didn’t think she deserved a single one.

That’s why she couldn’t… _listen._  

Humor was her only defense – on most days, it was _everything_ she had.

“It’s a compliment, I promise, cross my heart…”

Because everyone else left or cheated or pulled away or abandoned her because she wasn’t… _enough._ She was kicked out of her own home because she was…. _wrong._ Kaz left because she was a burden who couldn’t get her head on straight and kept relapsing, no matter how hard she tried. It didn’t matter that she tried, it mattered that she… _failed._

Her ex cheated on her because she dared to spend a little too much time working – because she wanted to _be_ someone. She decided Allie was no one, not even someone worthy of the truth. She had to see it for herself…on her own bed.

In the end, she failed _everyone._

“And…I just embarrassed myself...”

She’d rather step away, rip the band-aid off now than fail _her_ , too.

Because whatever Bea was starting to see in her… _she_ wasn’t seeing it, either.

“For the record, that sounded a lot more smooth in my head, I swear—“

Allie was scared to death…of not being _enough_.

For _her._

Somehow, Bea knew. She also knew _that_ wasn’t her real smile. Not by a long-shot.

“I’m usually better at these things, there’s a whole fanclub parked outside for a reason, Bea, I don’t even know how you got in. “

It wasn’t her real laughter, either.

“Cracked any skulls on your way here? Hold on, I’m picturing that…”

Sometime in between her nervous, erratic rambling, Bea moved even closer to Allie. She was only a breath apart from her now, so close she could count her eyelashes, follow every rapid, hesitant flutter of her eyelids closing in on her, feel every sharp inhale parting her lips against her own. All it took was one look from Allie - fervent, vulnerable and _so_ _scared_...and they both crashed and burned. Bea’s hand came up to brush against her cheek with nothing but reverence and devotion...like she never reserved for anyone else. And when she laid her forehead against Allie’s, her breath ghosted over those same lips, drawing a ragged shiver that rendered her silent at last.

She had no idea she was trembling even more.

_I love you._

“I hate you…”

Her words dropped with a soft, releasing exhale, no trace of fire or resistance anymore. Because all she had was pure surrender now. Allie’s shadow of a smile instantly faded away as she tucked Bea’s hair behind her ear with a heavy sigh. The flower girl stepped back just a little to hold both sides of her face before placing a fragile, loving kiss on her forehead…like last time.

“No, you don’t.”

It felt like a goodbye.

Her fingers trailed across Bea’s cheek, leaving painful marks in their wake that she didn’t even know she could cause, before Allie pulled her hands back, allowing them to linger in the air like all the words she didn’t dare to say anymore, then simply _fall_ …just like the rest of her. She looked away, making her intentions clear again, already driving herself back to her desk, taking a new piece of Bea’s already wrecked heart with each step.

Because Allie was letting her go.

_I don’t belong here, I **should go**._

_I **have to go** …_

_And I need you to **let me**._

It wasn’t the first time.

And maybe it was Allie _still_ not believing she could be someone’s first choice…because no one ever put her first…

Or raw panic coursing through her veins because she couldn’t stand the sight of her walking away ever again…

Maybe it was Allie _still_ looking at her like that…

It could’ve even been that… _that_ outfit..

Bea had no time to stop and think anymore. She’s done enough of both.

She caught Allie’s arm at the very last moment, spinning her around with spiraling urgency..

“No, I don’t.”

Those were all the words she had before something broke…something _else._

Bea’s hands found Allie’s tie, pulling her down to her level, rougher than she meant, as her eyes fluttered shut in reckless abandon…or just a touch of _truth_. One step, one motion and all restraint flew out the window, no longer held by a much too fragile thread.

It snapped in a million pieces before her.

And not even _she_ could pick them up anymore.

“Bea? W-what are you—“

Her lips came crashing down onto Allie’s, heavy, starved and _desperate,_ blazing fire swirling in every touch, knocking all the air out of her lungs…or maybe teaching her how to breathe all over again. Heart pounding, blood pumping, Bea’s hands slid from her shoulders down to her chest, dragging her lower before she could even react, marking every inch of her that she could find. As she closed that final distance that never should’ve been there in the first place, her frantic, instinctual strokes turned into raw passion and _need_ , like she never knew she had.

And she didn’t…until _now._

Until _her._

The momentum forced Allie stumbling backwards on her heel, body clashing against the edge of her desk with an audible thud. A groan mixed with a soft whimper slipped out of her mouth, drowned just like her words were when Bea’s lips moved against her own, slender fingers shaking ever-so-slightly as they moved along her waist, drawing her in and never letting her go.

Stunned to oblivion, too stunned to process what was happening, Allie’s hands clasped against her desk with an iron grip but they failed to anchor her. Bea, on the other hand, did. She wasted no time, she backed her into it even more, until their hips came flush together. Allie gasped then, arching into her touch, her eyes widening just to helplessly fall shut a choked breath later.

When her body trembled with raw shock and desire, crashing against them both, no sound echoed back…because Bea muffled it again, stealing her last chance to speak or pull away altogether. Facing no resistance, she brought her even closer until there was nothing between them but each other. Bea wrapped her hands around her neck, finding every strand of blonde that she could trace then did what she always should have – hold on to her.

She’d die before she let her move another inch.

And when the blonde came to her senses, she followed and matched her rhythm perfectly, as always. Allie’s right hand slid down to her jaw and she tilted her head to the side, gently running her tongue over her bottom lip, a hushed sigh parting her own, still asking for permission, even now. When she was met halfway, she fell apart at the seams.

Because something broke inside of _her_ , too.

 _God, I want you_.

Rampant desire coursing through her veins, she grabbed a fistful of Bea’s jacket and pulled her forwards, mouth sliding over hers ravenously, almost knocking _her_ off her feet now. A low, pleading moan slipped past Allie’s lips, passing onto Bea’s in a flash, then sunk into every inch of her, setting her entire body ablaze. The sound ignited an unfamiliar, almost painful throbbing in her, an electric shock starting from her heart down to her core, jolting her back instantly.

She was pretty sure she just got struck by lightning.

_It’s cold…_

_It’s not cold._

She wasn’t the only one.

She was _never_ the only one.

“Allie…”

She didn’t even hear her own whisper or the rough, breathy edge taking over her voice when she called her name, almost helplessly. But Allie did and the echo only fed the flames she just ignited. The flower girl was all tousled hair, smudged lipstick and dilated pupils now, drawing her back in like a moth to a flame. She’s never looked more beautiful.

“I....”

Her hands found both of Allie’s cheeks at once and her lips were back on hers with ravaging hunger before the blonde could get as much as a word out. She’s seen about a million questions dancing in her eyes – she was answering them now.

Allie’s breathing came heavy and shallow when Bea caught her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling a louder moan from her throat, knuckles turning white against her desk. Bea silenced it halfway this time, still holding her captive and backing her into it with the same ardent need and yearning from before. She had no idea she was capable of any but whoever this was, right here, right now, governing her body, she didn’t want her to stop.

Because this version of her… _spoke._

_You’re not going anywhere._

Allie seemed to know, seemed to feel what she was trying to say even without voicing the words. Her right hand ghosted over Bea’s forearm with a soft, reassuring caress that scaled down her fire, until she readjusted her position, towering over her a little.

_I’m not._

This time around, both of Allie’s hands circled around her waist in a warm embrace filled with all the promises they couldn’t say with words, bodies melting together, heated kisses gradually morphing into soft, tentative brushes of lips.

_I promise you._

With every passing second, Allie was slowing her down physically but mentally sending her into overdrive even more. It was what she always did. If she was a forest fire, chaotic, rough and unpredictable, Allie was the calm, gentle summer breeze, bringing her down…bringing her _home._

Their foreheads were still glued together when they fell apart, still chasing each other. Bea’s fingers trailed across Allie’s right cheek down to her bottom lip with even more awe and wonder flaring in her eyes than last time.

“Hi…"

The sight was enough to ground Allie – now their every labored breath was in sync, like a back-and-forth game of questions and answers.

“H-hey…”– the blonde croaked weakly, still panting once her eyes fluttered open.

It felt like she was meeting her for the first time all over again.

“Are you alright?”

So was Bea.

“What… was… that….for...?” – Allie’s already chaotic breathing patterns were turning into a staccato rhythm that she couldn’t control.

Now _she_ was one breath away from passing out.

_Everything._

“You really, _really_ weren’t going to let me finish, were you?” – Bea asked, voice raspy and warm at the same time, fumbling with Allie’s tie, then staring back up.

“W-well I…” – Allie cleared her throat, following every hypnotized movement of her hands, still too dazed and aroused to perform basic functions, such as speaking. “N-not that I'm complaining but…” – she brushed a loose curl away from Bea’s face, her eyes now a deep ocean blue, a few shades darker than usual, thick with lust. “Are you...um…do you regret this cause I can just pretend it didn’t happen—“

“I would kill you.”

"In front of my flowers?”

She knew Bea well enough by now to take her threats seriously. She would.

But Allie still said it in an aggravated, genuinely terrified voice, tilting her head back. Because _that_ was an unfit sight for her pretty ones.

“Fine, I’d take you out first.”

As in… _”outside”,_ of course.

“You really, _really_ need to work on your double meanings, Bea—“

Or maybe, just maybe, she said it on purpose. She was a fast learner, after all.

“Anyways, what I was going to say…before you interrupted me..”

“Pretty sure _you_ interrupted _me_ just now. For the record, if it means you’re gonna do that…” – Allie dropped her voice, seductively.  “Interrupt me anytime,  _m’lady_ …”

Bea kicked her in the ribs… _gently_ , earning a childish pout in response, like Allie was genuinely offended _that_ didn’t work on her. It did. But she wasn’t done, not by a long-shot.

She had held her peace for a while. She had a lot of speaking to catch up on.

“Just give me your hand, will ya, _chatty?"_

“Why? Do you plan on twisting it…?”

If she wasn’t so fond of this _idiot_ who was dead-set on filling her entire soul with nostalgia, on top of everything else, she’d vaporize her for still daring to tease her now, of all times.

“N-no..” – she sighed, taking hold of Allie’s hand, guiding it over her thunderous heart herself. “It’s never done this for anyone else, Allie. And I don’t know what to do about that.”

That all-knowing smirk on the blonde’s lips died instantly, as her own heartbeats increased in tempo and a soft gasp tore out of her.

“I guess what I’m trying to say...in  _human_ language is that I...” – Bea faltered, barely holding Allie’s hand there with a shaky grasp. “I think I’m in love with you, too.”

“W-what?”

“No, I…” – she looked at the blonde’s shocked, earnest eyes searching her own so intently they could have burned holes in them once more…and she had her answer.  “I am…”

“Fuck, I am…” – her head dropped and she took a step back from Allie, more answers hitting her seemingly out of nowhere. “And I’ve been so busy trying to outsmart you all this time because I don’t know how to deal with that. And how scary it is. “

“Bea—“

“No, you _don’t_ get it, Allie.” – she retreated even more, unaware of her own hectic gestures. Her rapid movements were making the flower girl dizzy…for more than just one reason. A part of Allie found her freak-out hilarious, on top of adorable, while the other was genuinely concerned…and _flattered._

Bea only got like this because of her.

“I-I don’t get scared easily, okay?” – the redhead continued, this time shuffling her feet on the floor from left to right like a yo-yo.

_But you scared me._

“And I-I've been Franky’s roommate, alright? I’ve seen things—“

Allie chuckled, a new pair of heart glasses instantly growing on top of the ones she already wore.

Bea was still competing in the freak-out Olympics, aiming for the gold medal...

“B-but you’re, you’re everywhere, alright, you’re not just in _here_ , okay?” – she pointed to her head mid-motion, before moving again, almost theatrically. “And trust me, I have _a lot_ of people in there, it’s not easy to get in. Think you need like a special pass or something--”

 _Yeah, you do, Red! Sorry…is this the wrong time?_ _I’ll see myself out. You don’t need me anymore._

If the play Bea was in was called _“How to faint in 5 steps”,_ she’d receive a standing ovation. Allie was suddenly keen on theatre, too.

“You’re in here… _too_.” – Bea’s voice softened when she stopped dead in her tracks, gesturing to her still throbbing heart. “Which means you can also leave.”

 “Good.”

“Are you freaking kidding me right now—“ – Bea groaned in a whiny, baby-voice, dipping her head. It fell against a very amused blonde’s chest, who was suddenly so close she could feel her every breath.

Allie happened to _love_ children – hyperactive, rambling, red-haired ones, in particular. She also knew one or two things about handling their meltdowns.

“Because I don’t plan on leaving…ever…” -  Allie whispered, tilting her chin with one hand, then stroked her cheek tenderly. “If you’ll have me, I mean..”

Bea mirrored her gesture in a mesmerized haze and maybe in unspoken approval, too.

She didn’t say anything else - her last frantic breath just got stolen.

“And it doesn’t have to be scary. Because I would never hurt you, not on purpose.”

Instead, she stayed there like there was no other place in this world she’d rather be, no longer turning away.

“That’s why you never heard me rap before, Bea...”

She reached out even more, pressing her forehead onto Allie’s again, a goofy smile spreading all over her face, one that seemed so out of place on her.

“That’s how much I care about ya…”

“You're _such_  an idiot…”

“Correction – _your_ idiot.”

So was her heartfelt, contagious fit of laughter that Allie mirrored all the same.

Oddly enough, Bea liked the sound of that.

“Or sing…”– the blonde squinted, staring up the ceiling then back to her. “On second thought…I don’t know which is worse…probably both---“

“Way to ruin it, _Romeo._ ”

“You were _so_ right.” – Allie covered her face with both hands, comically, her eyes shyly peering from underneath. “I really suck at this—“

“No, you don’t…”

Bea rolled her eyes, then gently took them down, holding them close to her frame.

“I don’t…?”

Her lips fell on top, planting chaste, sealing kisses across her every knuckle.

Allie’s smile could set the world alight.

“You could never.”

Maybe there was a start for everything, including… _happiness._

And maybe Allie wasn’t that far off…she did deliver it.

Bea planned on returning the favor.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise…” - Allie spoke her earlier promise with _words_ this time around _,_ laughter dying down beat by beat. “So…whatever you want from me…” – she added, stepping back just a little, voice turning solemn and _raw_.  “It’s yours, I…”

_I’m yours._

“I’ll give it to you.”

She was putting all of her cards on the table again, running the risk of losing _everything_ or gaining everything, all in one motion.

Bea was about to offer her something _else,_ different from all the cards she’s ever been dealt in life.

“I don’t want anything from you.” - she whispered lowly, drawing her back in, punctuating her promise with a feather-light kiss. “I never did, I….I just want you. “

_And everything you are._

Tears prickled at Allie’s eyes and, this time, she made no conscious effort to stop them.  _That_ was a first. Hopefully one of many others she wanted to have…with her.

And _her_ only.

Instead, she let them fall freely, a grateful smile rising from underneath, one that could have put the brightest sunray to shame. Bea didn’t even realize she was crying, too, not until she felt a soft hand on her cheek, reaching out to wipe her own share of tears.

“Come here, _silly.” –_ Allie brought her closer with one arm over her shoulder and another around her waist, then kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay.”

Fingers gingerly slid across the length of Allie’s back, tracing every curve like a puzzle, nose nuzzled in her neck, breathing in jasmine and something _else_ … _home._ And when the flower girl smiled, pulling her a little closer, she _knew_ , without even seeing it. Twin whimpers eventually subsided…and the world stopped spinning.

Nothing but _calm_ and _peace_ followed.

So foreign. So long overdue.

Bea didn’t know how long they stayed like that, leaning against each other, linked together in more ways than one, not voicing a single word anymore. It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been minutes, maybe even hours.

But, for once, she couldn’t care less if her sense of time was wrong – her timing finally wasn’t.

And everything else was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say your guys' comments from last chapter have truly amazed me and actually made me sit down and get this done. That and they made my birthday so thank you. Your words are better than mine, I can promise you that <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: They are so soft, I hate them.

“You wanna uh…maybe sit down for a bit?”

Right. There was a couch in there.

For a moment there, Bea nearly forgot it existed altogether. It was then that something else clicked in her mind - the reason why she didn’t register many details of Allie’s workspace before was because she wasn’t paying attention…

All the times she’s been in here, she’s _only_ been looking at her.

“Sure, yeah…”

The realization only made her smile fondly at the expectant, tender-hearted blonde glowing like a warm sunset now, embracing her in a vibrant spectacle of colors. She could spend an eternity picking every nuance apart, watching, discovering…

After years spent in pitch-black darkness, she thought walking within the light would feel frightening, unfamiliar….but she was wrong. It was the opposite, a growing sense of eager anticipation.

Because she had _her_ now.

And when Allie graciously let go of her hand just to lead the way, as always, déjà-vu settled in, only elevating the comforting energy between them. Much like then, Bea’s knees grew weak, but she was pretty sure that wouldn’t change even if she sat down. For the record, she did not have arthritis. She had that checked out, too.

Maybe it was just…the Allie effect.

Somehow, even without a word spoken, Allie seemed to sense it in the air between them, coated in a magical stillness, seemed to know instinctively what she was doing to her. She was still making her nervous now, even after everything that transpired between them. The knowledge made her happier than flowers, cats and an endless Netflix subscription, combined.

With an extended arm like the gentleman she promised she was and an unspoken invitation lingering in the air – another déjà-vu of sorts, perhaps even more cherished than the previous one, she sat down, too...

Bea read between the lines.

Allie did have a favor to return, after all.

“You know…” – the blonde sighed in contentment, lightly pressing her lips onto Bea’s temple as she laid her head on her shoulder. “That picture doesn’t do you justice.”

“You know…” – Bea leaned back to see her better, gaze flickering between Allie’s features with something akin to… _hunger_. “You should only wear…”– she murmured, reaching for her collar, unaware of the darkness mirrored in her eyes. “ _This._ For the rest of your life.”

Allie smirked…

Her ego couldn’t fit through all custom doors ever designed, stacked on top of each other…

“Really, Bea, you’ve seen me in a skin tight dress and… _this_ does it for you?”

Bea bit her bottom lip unconsciously, then hid her face in the crook of Allie’s neck, feeling her smirk against the crown of her head even more. Fine, she could admit that whole outfit did… _things_ to her, unfamiliar things, starting with the wave of heat spreading along down to her core to the explosive hammering in her chest. Allie pointing at it incredulously and suggestively at the same time, drawing even more attention to her neckline and waist and those hips that should be branded a public health hazard did not help in the slightest.

“Aww, don’t get shy on me now, I’m just messing with you. Good to know. Wouldn’t have pinged ya for the secretary type…”

Now Allie wasn’t helping.

“But hey, since we’re on the subject of honesty, that jacket should be illegal. On you, to be specific.”

“Really…biker chick does…” – Bea’s face twisted into an adorably puzzled grimace. “ _It_ for you?”

What was _it_ …again?

“You have no idea. “

Now the deep, sensual rumble in Allie’s voice and the hooded look in her eyes doing even more things to her really, really weren’t helping.

“Also, opposites attract, do you even watch television? Or are you still too cool for that?”

“Course I do. Told you I like to know my enemies up close.”

Allie had never been more smitten - she could put a ring on her right now for _that_ and nothing else.

“So, what’s up with the tie…” – Bea shot a quizzical, scrutinizing look to her company’s ridiculously bright accessory.  “ _Ms. Runway?_ ” – she added, lightly running her fingers over the fabric.

“I happen to like…” – Allie shrugged, feigning neutrality…”Red. ”

_All over me._

“That…” – Bea rolled her eyes, planting a quick kiss to Allie’s lips. “Was so cheesy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—“

Now pouting lips …

“Uh-huh…”

“It’s my favorite color _, egomaniac_. “ – Allie grumbled, stealing her tie back from Bea’s grasp, like she didn’t deserve to touch her prized accessory anymore. “Got nothing to do with you and your silly little nickname, a’right?”

It should be mentioned that Allie’s favorite color was, in fact, blue.

“And I seem to recall _someone_ liking my fashion choice earlier—“

“ …so cheesy…” – Bea teased, a lighter shade of red dusting her cheeks. “I could throw up all over you right now.”

“If you’re gonna.....please spare the tie.”

Bea chuckled warmly, grabbed her by the collar and kissed her soundly again…

“Better?”

“Mmm…” – Allie grinned. “Much better.”

“God, I feel like a teenager right now.”

Another dreamy sigh slipped past Bea’s lips…and she hid her face in the crease between Allie’s neck and shoulder again, long red curls spreading over ivory skin, making her ticklish. The flower girl was just about to protest like the woman child she was when Bea’s softening look on her profile made her reconsider… and the more she observed, the fondness reflected in her eyes blended with amusement…because the redhead was breathing in her perfume, as if trying to detect… _something._

The scent was _still_ making her dizzy and anchoring her, at the same time. She didn’t even know what it was…vanilla, jasmine?

Maybe it was just Allie.

“Good…” – she breathed, right arm safely clasped around her waist, pulling her closer. “Means we’re doing it right.”

And when the flower girl’s lips touched her forehead, feather-light and gentle, Bea couldn’t help but echo one word back to her…

“We…”

At last, she said it out loud…but only because she liked how it sounded.

“Y-yeah…” – the blonde reiterated, hesitantly, tilting her head back. “Any objections on that front?”

Unsurprisingly, _she_ got it backwards…

At times, she really wasn’t the brightest flower in the bouquet…

“Cause it’s never too late to take it back. Y-you can still kick me out of my own office. Actually, I know my way out, say the word and I’ll just—“ – Allie stumbled all over her words, leaning to the side in a comic, exaggerated manner, nearly falling off the couch in the process.

Bea laughed heartily, then caught her… _idiot_ hand, stopping her dead in her tracks a second before her untimely collision.

“I still don’t… I don’t regret this, Allie.” – her lips ghosted over every knuckle and a mesmerized Allie watched, eventually settling down.. “I want this. I just…“ – the redhead intertwined her fingers with hers, holding her in place even more…

“I’ve never been anyone’s…well..”

“Plus-one?"

In true Allie fashion…she ruined the moment.

“Oooh…soul-mate?”

Twice…

Bea pushed _her_ this time.

“Other-half?”

Bea pushed her even more…but Allie steadied herself on her elbow just in time.

If she were to fall off this couch, she’d take her too, non-negotiable.

“Really, Allie, wedding lingo _and_ getting sappy on me, too?”

“Sorry to go all rom-com on ya…”–  the blonde muttered, apologetically, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I’m not gonna lie…I am a little..” – she added in a shaky, emotion-riddled voice. “That okay?”

“N-not too much…” – Bea leaned over to fix her hair, the sudden shimmer in Allie’s eyes not lost on her, either… “Promise me?”

“Okay..” – Allie exhaled, crossing her heart. “I’m gonna try.”

“Good…”

Bea still couldn’t get used to _that_ look on her…it only made the butterflies in her stomach flutter more, asking to be set free.

If only she knew Allie planned on looking at her like that for the rest of her life.

“I had Doyle get sappy on me, y’know…”

“No way…” – the blonde gasped, dramatically. “ _The_ Mrs _._ Doyle-Westfall?”

“The one and only. “

“You’re messing with me…”

“I’m not kidding, she was cheesier than you--“

“Impossible—“

“I am still scarred, Allie…”

As if on cue, they both burst into laughter…

“For life…” – Bea clarified in between heartfelt chuckles, waving her hand around. “To be exact.”

“Ouch. That _is_ a scary picture.”

Now they _both_ looked frightened…

“Well, then…” – Allie’s hand slid down Bea’s forearm, gently drawing her attention again. “How about…” – her eyes skimmed the ceiling…she was pretty sure fly Allie just gave her a massive thumbs-up. Wait, do flies have thumbs? “How about this?”

Never-mind, she needed to return to the previous topic…

She could Google the specifics of fly anatomy later.

“Hmm…?”

“Does uh…does exception sound better?” – the blonde bit her lip, nervously…“Cause you are mine, you know.”

A soft, entranced smile tugged at Bea’s mouth..

Now, more than ever, she understood what Allie meant then…

“You’re my exception, too.“

_To every rule I ever had._

“So…” - Allie shifted closer, combing her hand through Bea’s hair, reveling in the smooth, silky texture… “Since _that’s_ out of the way.”…- she added, fingers trailing lower down her cheek tantalizingly slow, sky-blue orbs twinkling with a strange mix of lust and vibrant… _innocence_.

“Will you sleep with me?”

_(Probably not the wisest choice of words, Allie)_

It was then that the blonde realized… _she_ needed to work on her double meanings, too…

“W-what?” – Bea yanked herself away like someone just dipped her in an ice cold shower…

(One Allie could probably use right about now, if you asked her…)

“Well I…” – Allie explained, sheepishly. “I thought you could maybe, you know, come over, spend the night?”

(Or…not?)

Bea sighed in relief.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on….” – the blonde eyed her suspiciously, biting back a laugh, as the wheels turned in her head. She heard… _that._ “What did you think I meant, _perv?_ ”

Bea could use a fly Bea right about now, too.

Nothing on that ceiling for her, unfortunately. The whiteness was still fascinating, though, marvelous tones, exquisite finish…

“Hey, _that’s_ negotiable too if you wanna—“

One last low murmur, coupled with an indecent wink from Allie and…she was kicked off the couch. True to her promise, in the midst of it all, the flower girl grabbed Bea by the wrist, taking her along for the ride until she fell straight on top of her…

So they did what every young couple in love would do in that compromising position...

“Ouch, fragile bones, remember? Get off me—“

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

(Laugh and bicker like children, of course.)

“ _You_ pushed _me_ , you devil--“

“That’s not how _I_ remember it—“

“Oh really and how do _you_ remember it, liar?”

“You fell over because you’re clumsy—“

“Oh and you just happened to land on top of me? What a strange coincidence…”

“You dragged me down with you…“

When the last joyous rumble of their synchronized laughter died down, Bea looked up instinctively, gaze melting into Allie’s, waves calm and focused inching on the edge of a storm…

She was watching her in a way she couldn’t quite figure out, bright eyes turning a few shades darker when they shifted to her mouth, then downwards, following every move she made in awestruck marvel….because sometime in between, her hands found both of Allie’s shoulders, meaning to use them as leverage to push herself up..

Allie’s hand sliding down the length of her back begged otherwise…

One touch was all it took, quietly asking, in no way demanding, a gentle catalyst that neither could fight, merely breaking something that had been, at best, holding by a thread. Bea cleared her throat, nervously, gaze roaming all over Allie’s face in return, watching her expression rapidly change to _lustful_ …

And when she found her again, that familiar flash of lightning that always flickered between them only struck harder, pulling them closer. Electricity streamed through her veins when Allie ran her tongue over her lips, chest rising up and down as she breathed heavier, watching Bea hover on top of her with ardent _want_ and something akin to wonder. As the blonde’s hand gently pressed on one of her wrists, stopping her dead in her tracks, her mouth fell open in a faint gasp. Because among the hazy, darkening flashes of crystal blue drawing her in, she saw something else, almost _pleading._

“Bea…”

Her voice matched it tenfold, silently but so reverently..

_Don’t go._

She knew what she really wanted to say…

She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

So she broke free from the blonde’s grasp just enough to cup both of her cheeks and close the gap between them with a deep, needy kiss that left them both reeling and aching for more. Allie panted softly then, pulling her forward with a tentative brush of fingers against her hip, causing her body to arch back with a tremble that only matched the one in her. With every slow, firm pressure of her lips against Allie’s, every quiet moan slipping out of her mouth, she wondered how could she live for so long without knowing them, tasting them.

And when she leaned back to find her breath again because the blonde effortlessly stole it as she always did, she hoped her eyes could do the talking, instead.

“I’m sorry…I—“

“Shhh…” – she wiped Allie’s tears fervently, tears she had no clue had even started falling…”It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what got into me...”

Still hovering on top of her, Bea watched her with a tender, awestruck expression as she rambled anxiously and self-consciously again…

“Wow, this is really not sexy—“

And again…

“I’m sorry, can I get a do-over?”

And again…

“It’s just that…I can’t believe this is happening and---“

Until she placed her index finger against her mouth with a lot more sensuality than she even realized, her bold action taking both of them by surprise. Before Allie could say another word, she captured her lips again, cutting her speech short, slender fingers caressing the back of her neck…

“Are you done?”

“I am never speaking again if you keep doing that…”

Bea rolled her eyes.

Challenge… _considered._

Allie flashed a toothy grin, switching back to her happy-go-lucky, teasing self in an instant…like no trace of fragility or doubt had even taken space in her gaze before.

“Hey, Bea.…”– she broke the quiet, setting a new record for the world’s fastest broken promise.

“What now…” – Bea muttered under her breath. “ _Chatty_ …?”

“Remember when I said _get off me_?”

"How could I forget? It was literally two seconds ago--"

Ever-so-slowly, Allie halfway sat up right, one arm sliding down Bea’s lower back underneath her jacket, holding her there..

“On second thought…” - she dropped her voice into a sultry whisper, inching closer to her ear. “Stay right there, _baby,_ I don’t mind…”

Bea could have sworn all the hair just rose on the back of her neck.

“Oh r-really, who’s the perv now, _perv_ \--“

She shuddered against her frame, only adding gasoline to the blonde’s fire once again. She licked her lips then pulled her down to her level even more….in a different way. Allie’s nails gently raked along the nape of her neck, causing her to sigh as their lips brushed against each other’s, slow and steady. Bea moaned softly when Allie’s mouth parted, drawing her in even more passionately, punctuating every word.

“I. will. not. admit. to. anything.”

Before Bea could even get a chance to react, she had already pulled back, smirking all-knowingly.

Do-over? Check.

With a slight head shake, the dazzled redhead cleared her throat, unaware of how flushed she was becoming with every passing second. Allie watched her steady herself on her elbow in silent amusement, then lay flat on her back, still studying the architecture of the ceiling....

The flower girl joined in on the unspoken invitation, mimicking her pose…

Knowing exactly what she just did, she pretended to count sheep, too as Bea was still picking up the pieces of her fallen jaw and breathing a little too hard next to her..

Fly Allie was now giving her two fly thumbs-ups and starting a fan club for her, campaign posters included..

_Two fanclubs…not too shabby for a Novak._

Her alter-ego may have just given her a metaphorical high five in her head, too.

“What I actually meant to say earlier…”  - the cheeky blonde cut in after a deliberate, drawn-out pause. Supporting her weight on one arm, she leaned forward, tucking a lose curl behind her ear with the other. “Before your head went all… _Gutter Town…_ ” – she added with an airy hand motion. “ _…_ was uh…I’m not propositioning you or anything….but I sleep better when you’re there…”

Despite keeping her voice low and seductive…on purpose, Allie’s gestures signaled otherwise. She was beaming and crossing her heart… _innocently_. In fact, if you squinted hard enough, you could see the angelic halo floating above her head, completed by a majestic pair of wings.

“No funny business…promise…”

Well, there _was_ a choir of angels singing in Bea’s head right about now – the image wasn’t that far off. In her current state, Bea would probably say yes to anything she asked, even murder.

Hell, she’d help her hide the body.

“Have I not proven I’m a gentleman?”

Since she was fresh out of words to speak into existence, she responded with a weak, absent nod.

“Unless _you_ wanna--“

Allie’s suggestive wink shot Bea back to the realm of the living.

“Do you want to never get off the floor?”

She _tried_ to glare…

“Cause I’m nailing you to it—“

It fell on blind eyes. Her words fell on deaf ears, too.

Allie was having the time of her life.

“Look at what you did, Bea, you ruined my favorite outfit…” - she pouted and protested childishly, pointing to her disheveled appearance, from the crumpled white shirt to her now loose, crooked tie.

“Do you want to make floral arrangements in the afterlife—“

“Or should I say…” – Allie ran her tongue over her teeth, then wiggled her eyebrows. “ _Your_ favorite outfit?”

“Hey, Allie, so does your ego ever--“

“You love it. “ – she drawled in a thick accent, a contagious grin spreading across her face, as she hugged Bea affectionately. “You loooove me.”

Correction – _tried_ to hug affectionately.

The redhead crossed her arms like a stubborn child, too, blocking her, instead…

“You love me soooo much…”

Then unfolded one arm just to kick her in the side with it…

“Ouch…gym guns, remember?”

Bea kicked her again…harder.

“You’re wounding these fragile noodles, a’right?”

Allie backpedaled, noodle arms rising up in (fake) surrender.

“Know what, I _am_ gonna take you to the gym, gotta learn to defend yourself ‘cuz you won’t make it out of this room alive if you--“

“Before you kill me… can I have my famous last words?”

Bea’s stern, annoyed expression was now morphing into a very confused one, completed by a pair of pursed lips. And Allie just had to bite hers…

“For my memoir and all…”

Because she didn’t want to blow off her cover, of course.

Bea was only 50% convinced.

“Come on, Bea, I worked hard on them…don’t take that away from me.” – Allie put on her best puppy face, trailing her fingers over Bea’s forearm painstakingly slow in up and down motions. “Please…?” - she added, batting her eyelashes like a cartoon character.

Scratch that, she’d help her get away with murder, again.

If she didn’t kill her first, that is.

“Fine.” – Bea reluctantly complied, grumbling under her breath.

Satisfied with her efforts, Allie shot her a smug, pleased look, then turned to face her on the floor again. Half of her body hovered over hers as she draped an arm loosely around her waist, lips inching closer to whisper in her ear. The blonde’s sudden proximity made her pulse pick up instantly…

With a dramatic clearing of her throat, she proceeded...

“Let it be known that Allie Novak’s last tokens of spoken wisdom to the world were…"

Bea held her breath in anticipation…

“You ready for it?”

Because Allie’s just sent a shiver down her spine…

“You looove me. “- Allie quipped, teasingly, in a sing-song voice and an even thicker accent. “My diary is gonna have a field day today--“

Bea wasn’t that far off before  - Allie really _was_ the only 27-year-old perpetually stuck in kindergarten. Honorary member, even.

She probably had a coloring book for a diary, lively sketched illustrations too.

“Why do I, again?”– the annoyed redhead furrowed her eyebrows then dusted her jacket, scurrying away. “Would you look at that, I suddenly forgot-“

A certain someone caught up to her just in time…

“Oh, did you now?” – Allie smiled goofily, playful blue orbs glinting with mischief. She pulled her back with a purposeful touch of her wrist, then pecked her on the cheek…

“Does that jog your memory….?”

“N-no, not really…”

“How about…..” – her hand slid down Bea’s waist underneath her jacket, lightly pulling her forwards, bringing their lips together in a slow, lazy kiss. “That?”

“N-no…”

Apparently, the blonde wasn’t the only stubborn child in this room…however, what Bea didn’t know was that she never lost a game in her life. The latter had no idea they were even playing.

Allie wasn’t about to start losing now.

“Mmm…” – she nuzzled her nose in Bea’s hair affectionately then allowed her lips to trail lower, ghosting over her cheek down to her jaw, until they stopped at her pulse point with a firm, gentle pressure…”That?”

“O-okay, okay…” – Bea pretended she didn’t just shudder, touching both of her shoulders weakly to pry her away. ”Fine…”

This time, the cheeky blonde complied.

And Bea just found out what… _.it_ was.

Satisfied she made her point (again), Allie pulled herself into a sitting position on the floor, resting her back against the couch as Bea shakily did the same, crossing her legs. Unsurprisingly, the flower girl broke the quiet first…as always. Because she wasn’t currently losing her ability to form coherent words…unlike a certain flushed someone who was still looking for a fly Bea on the walls.

Still no luck. She and fly Allie were probably packing for their honeymoon by now.

“I know I love to mess with you sometimes…”

Bea quirked an eyebrow.

“You don’t say—“

“But uh…”– Allie trailed off, chewing the inside of her cheek, eyebrows moving up and down thoughtfully. “I…um..”

“Oh, no…the serious tone…” – Bea sensed her struggling to articulate her thoughts…so she decided to help her by definitely _not_ helping. “Am I…am I in trouble?”

“No _, silly._ ” – the blonde giggled. “I’m not thinking about killing you, told ya it would be too obvious now. But I will find the right time, don’t worry…”

Then again, Allie’s timing was always right…

“Then what is it?”

“I want you to know that….this, right here…you set the pace and I follow, okay? There’s no such thing as too slow or too fast.”

As a new range of emotions flashed across Allie’s eyes, eventually settling on _earnest_ and _meaningful_ , Bea read between the lines…

“There’s only here, now…” – she added, placing a finger on her lips, tracing every contour with exploring, calculated motions, caught under a spell she never wanted to break free from.. “And whatever you want it to be, I am right there with you. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“So…” – Allie readjusted her pose, facing her completely now. “Let me try that again…” – she continued, both arms coming up to rest lazily on Bea’s waist.  

That feather-light touch still made her drowsy and weak…but the sheer fragility and hesitation in Allie’s demeanor, as if a dark, taunting part of her was still waiting for the other shoe to drop woke her up like a cold shower…

Bea swallowed painfully, glance shifting away, overtaken by regret and unshakeable _guilt_....for ever planting any seed of doubt in her mind…until the flower girl tilted her chin, watching her so adoringly, nonverbally chasing her fears away for far too many times to count..

Sometimes she wondered if Allie already knew every thought in her head even before she did…

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

The _“only if you want to”_ part….was heavily implied, of course…

“Only…” – the redhead wrapped her hands around her neck, bodies still moving towards each other at an agonizingly slow pace. “If you do something for me, too.”

“Anything..”

“Talk to someone..”

Allie looked at her, quizzically..

“About your nightmares…”

Then her face dropped…

“Hey…” – Bea chased her back, cupping her cheeks reverently, yet still so gentle and undemanding…giving her all the space to pull away for good if she wanted…but hopeful enough to know that she won’t.

“It can be me at first if you want, I’m not…” – she whispered, shifting away as little as possible, just enough to get a better glimpse of her face. “I’m not trying to push you to do anything you don’t want to do, Allie, I just want to help you.”

“I know you do…” – Allie sighed, leaning into her hand almost submissively, blue orbs falling shut, savoring the sensation like she wanted to burn it into memory forever. “And that means the world to me…”

The flower girl then took it down, laid a chaste, lingering kiss on it, before covering it with her own hand, resting them both on her lap...

“Long story short…I’ve lived on the streets for a while…and you can get anywhere in life, have all the things you’ve always wanted when you had nothing like money, a roof over your head, a career, independence but uh…something like that stays with you, you know?”

As Allie’s voice cracked audibly, Bea didn’t say a word…

Instead, she squeezed her hand harder, urging her to continue.

“On some nights, I feel like I’m there again and there’s so much I can’t…erase, people I wish I could erase from my mind forever or..people I wish I could have done more for and I didn’t. You only see the worst of humanity when you’re at rock bottom yourself. But I…I don’t know, being here with you…almost makes me wanna believe in the best, for a change.”

Realizing what she just said, Allie looked away in embarrassment…

“Sorry, that was _so_ cheesy.”

Bea shook her head in disapproval, leaning over to kiss her on the temple…

“No, it wasn’t…”

“Like five cheese factories--”

“It was beautiful…” – Bea countered, toying with a lock of her hair, before tucking it behind her ear. “And I could say the same for you…”

“I’m…I’m really not…” – the blonde confessed, self-consciously, fumbling with the skin around her fingers...“Aside from flowers, I’m not the best at anything. And you’d know that if you heard me sing. Bea—“

The redhead would have laughed along….but she knew better. Despite the joking tone intended, overt honesty and self-depreciation still rang in her voice, clear as day…because she believed everything…

If only Allie could see herself through her eyes.

But since that wasn’t an option, she’d have to use her words.

If she learned something by now, it was that sometimes you had to.

“Course you are. “

“Still haven’t heard me sing, Bea, trust me…” – Allie’s chest rumbled with joyous laughter…”Bleeding ears, broken windows, you’ll take that back in no time--“

If there was something else Bea learned by now…it was that sometimes actions spoke louder than words. And, maybe all along, Allie deserved both from her. So she ignored her dismissive gestures and hopeless attempts at deflecting through humor again…

Before she even knew what she was doing, her hands were back on Allie’s cheeks, soulful brown eyes chasing every feature, from the soft, feminine curve of her jaw down to that beauty mark above her lip, delicate strands of hair embracing her in a golden, ethereal glow..

“You’re perfect to me…”

The words just flew out of her mouth, surprising her in the process, too…

She didn’t know what prompted her to say it…maybe the fact that it’s been on her mind since she walked in here, maybe the fact that it just dawned on her – she’d never change anything about Allie, not even the things _she_ hated about herself.

If anything, she wanted to learn more. She wanted to know everything.

“Y-you mean that?” - Allie’s voice trembled, the fragile, child-like quality of it a reminder of all the times no one thought she was good enough, let alone perfect…

Another _“first”_ for her, too…

“Y-yeah…”

“Now _that_ was cheesy.”

With a pointed eye-roll, Bea was just about to shoot a witty comeback lingering on the tip of her tongue, when Allie’s hands tangled in her hair and her lips came crashing onto hers hungrily, almost desperately. Teeth grazed at her bottom lip with a newfound urgency, asking for permission or maybe needing to find entrance more than any other time. Bea made no effort to oppose her, sweeping her tongue in her mouth, slow and unyielding as her hands curved around her ribs, holding her close in return. She was pouring all the love she had for her in every gesture, telling her something else now, in non-negotiable terms, something she sensed she needed to hear…

_I’m not going anywhere, either…_

Allie got the message…

And when she pulled back, breathless and hazy, every blend of dark azure staring back at her so longingly, like no one else ever had, was coated in a clear shimmer…

“And that was supposed to be _my_ line…” – she paused, thumb grazing over Bea’s bottom lip…”Thief…”

Allie didn’t even realize her tears had started falling, leaving a visible trail of moisture across her cheeks…but Bea saw and felt every subtle change in her…

She ached to wipe them away…

“Get your own words, Allie—“

No matter what she said…

“Yours are better…” – the blonde grinned warmly, planting another wet kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Which is why I’m gonna try, now that you asked so nicely. “

“R-really?”

“Really really…”

“You’re not just saying it to humor me, are ya?”

“No…I will. “ – Allie exhaled, softly. “But can I…can I just talk to you first?”

“Always.”

Same Allie whose heart could have stopped beating. She liked the sound of that.

“But I can’t be your band-aid, okay…?”

Bea sighed, heavily, withdrawing a little to see her clearly…

“What do you mean?”

“If I can’t help you… then I want you to see Bridget…she knows what she’s doing, trust me….she helped me, too. I’ll…I’ll be there with you every step of the way but I need you to do this, okay? Please. For me if not for you…but I’d prefer you did it for you.”

With a disheartened expression, Allie looked away, voice coming out weaker and lower, betraying underlying shame, above everything else..

“It’s not gonna be pretty.” 

Bea thought she had nothing to be ashamed of...because those experiences made her into the woman she was today..

“I don’t care. We’re in this together, okay?”

“I love you…”

The words flew out of _her_ mouth this time…

Honest, raw, unplanned but _aching_ to be verbalized…an impulsive declaration, an undisputed truth or maybe a promise for a lifetime. And when Bea’s eyes locked with hers, hesitantly yet so eagerly voicing them back to her, the world stopped spinning.

“A-Allie…”

She didn’t need to say it out loud. Because she knew.

“Like no one else…” – Allie continued, with nothing but raw conviction. “Do you know that?”

Bea choked, aiming to say a million things and not managing a single one…

“You’re the first woman I…”

“W-what?”

The last one she intended to voice dropped first…

“I mean I…I had relationships, I have loads of game, you know that, Bea. I mean look at all this—“

Bea would have rolled her eyes at Allie pointing to her entire… _everything_ in faux self-confidence..

“But I…I never…”

If she wasn’t still in shock...

“L-loved anyone?” – Bea finished the sentence for her, sensing her struggle with the words..

With a deep, charged breath, Allie stared down to the floor, overcome by inadequacy and a growing sense of... _shame_ yet again.

“Ever…?”

The redhead asked once more, as gentle as she could muster, then moved closer to her, expressive brown orbs silently questioning, in no way demanding any answer…

“N-no…I…I mean...”

Allie still wanted to give her one…

"I thought I did but I…I was wrong. It’s not what it was.”

She thought of Marie….and how she used her before she even knew what love was…

“Not like this…”

Bea’s heart skipped a beat…

“That makes two of us.”

She thought of Harry…and how he used her before she even knew what love was…

“S-so I’m not sure I…”

_Know…_

“What if I…”

_Ruin it…_

Bea knew what she really wanted to say…

And she happened to think she couldn’t be farther from the truth…

Because if you asked her, Allie was a natural so far…

“I d-don’t…I don’t know…” – the blonde stuttered, arms coming up to fidget with her tie unconsciously…

_How to do this._

“If I mess anything up, you’ll let me know?”

“That’s not possible…” – Bea covered them with her own, stopping and melting her, all at once… “And you’re my only one, too, you know.”

“S-so you….no one…?” – Allie’s searching gaze fell upon her every feature...and she had her answer. “You’re not trying to make me feel better right now, are you?”

“No. So we can…we can suck at this together..?”

“Pfft…I’ve had training. No one’s better at ruining things than me.“ – Allie laughed, smugly, celebrating her major achievements in life…again. “Game on. You’re so gonna lose, Bea.”

“Well, _you_ …”– a triumphant smile stretched across the redhead’s lips in return. “Could never ruin anything for me…so _you_ already lost.”

Check and mate…

“Hmm…I don’t know…” – Allie pursed her lips cutely.. “From where I’m standing, it looks like I won.”

It was at that precise moment they both looked at each other and realized something else…

They were still on the floor. 

Since both of their outfits were already ruined, Allie was the first to help her up…because she happened to have flawless manners…even in a very crumpled shirt she was trying to flatten to no avail, as an amused Bea watched on.

“Don’t…don’t even say anything.”

Bea bit her lip….stealthily, of course..

“I wasn’t planning on it—“

“Need I remind you _who_ ruined this in the first place?”

“Oh please…do tell…”

“See, it’s a funny story and it involves this really _hot_ redhead—“

“H-Hayley Williams?” – Bea stammered, face now coated in a gentle flush…that had nothing to do with the blonde’s earlier compliment, of course..

Same blonde now smiling widely and biting her lip to stop herself from saying anything else, too…

“What? I have a daughter, you know—“

“I am impressed you know our generation’s finest, _Ms. Smith_ …”

“Are you calling me old?”

“I wouldn’t dare..even if you are like 50, right?”

Bea _tried_ to smack Allie over the back of the head…

“Give or take?”

But she dodged just in time, plopping herself down on the couch unceremoniously, instead..

Bea shook her head, then sat back down, too, admitting surrender…

“Hey…Allie…?”

“Hmm…?”

In a heartbeat, the blonde snuggled next to her affectionately, that simple, loving action promptly interrupting Bea’s train of thought…and speech. This time around, Allie moved with purpose, knowing she was allowed, draping an arm around her waist, before dipping her head on her shoulder with a soft purr…like the lazy cat she was.

“You know how we were talking about pictures before…?”

“Mmm...what about them?”

By now, Allie was mumbling drowsily against her frame, baby-blues barely half-open, just listening to the sound of Bea’s raspy voice above her ear…she could have fallen asleep right there and never woken up again...

“You want to send me a naughty one and you don’t know how to ask?”

If it wasn’t for Bea nudging her…not-so-gently…

“Because for the record, you never have to ask, _m’lady_ —“

Twice…

Allie _tried_ to take her head out of the gutter for 0.02 seconds…

“At your house…there’s a….there’s a woman…”

“There are plenty of women at my house, Bea, you’re gonna have to get used to sharing. Fanclub, remember?”

Needless to mention, she failed spectacularly…

“N-no, _moron.”_

And this time, Bea _did_ smack her across the back of the head, leaving her to pout and tend to her wounds…

“Ouch, why do you keep hitting me?”

“For the inner satisfaction it brings, what do you think?”

Allie smirked.

“I meant…“ – Bea clarified with an annoyed undertone, fixing her hair. “There’s a picture of you and a woman. You don’t have to tell me, I was just..”

“Curious about her?”

“Yeah…she your mother?”

“N-no…” – Allie sighed, expression falling ever-so-slightly. “I don’t have a mother…Least not the one who brought me into the world. _She_ doesn’t have a daughter, either…”

Bea couldn’t have misheard the subtle hint of contempt slipping into her voice...and the underlying _hurt,_ begging to be listened all the same...

She already regretted bringing it up and was on the verge of taking it back, when Allie spoke again…

“But that…that’s Kaz, she was the closest thing to it. She was more of a mother than anyone else I know…” – the blonde shifted away, painful regret and wistful nostalgia governing every space of her haunted, troubled eyes now. “Well, aside from you..”

“S-so what happened?”

“I drove her away…” – Allie explained, bitterly, rubbing her hands together…”She tried to keep me off drugs and I let her down so she left..”

Bea had a feeling she was making it sound a lot more simple and straightforward than it actually was….and she wasn’t wrong.

“Allie—“

“I promised her over and over that I’d stay away and I…” – the flower girl bit down hard on her bottom lip. “I was pretty messed up then, I didn’t listen, I--“

“It’s not your fault…” – Bea rubbed her shoulder, comfortingly. “I’m sure you tried…”

“Not enough…”

“Hey…” – she stopped her self-inflicted torture with a delicate touch on her cheek, the gesture silencing all unspoken protests on the tip of her tongue. “You did the best you could…and if you ever want to look for her again…we can do that…”

“I don’t even know where I’d start and I doubt she’d _ever_ want to hear from me again—“

“Course she would…who wouldn’t?”

Allie blushed, ducking her head shyly…

Bea thought the smile blossoming on her face now was brighter than any flower in sight…

“No, you don’t get it, Bea…” – she let out a prolonged sigh, faltering-ever-so-slightly... “She couldn’t help me because I didn’t want to be helped…I had nothing. No family, no friends. Nothing to live for…”

“Look at you now.”

“Now I have everything.“ – Allie’s fingers stroked her wrist lightly, asking for permission even if she didn’t have to…”But I…I kept that as a reminder, you know…”

Bea caught onto her cue…

She intertwined her fingers with hers…

“Of what…?”

“Where I was…but also as a reminder to never let down someone I care about again.”

“Well if you ask me…” – Bea leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on top of her forehead, then her cheek, before shifting downwards to brush her lips against hers slowly. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem…”

When she pulled away and looked down, her fingers locked with Allie’s again, instinctively, in a dance only they knew. At last, she was following that all-too-familiar impulse within her that she's had since the day they met, one she was finally done fighting....and the more she watched, the more she realized something else..

It was the hand she wanted to hold for the rest of her life.

If only she knew Allie had that same thought.

If only she knew Allie was also seeing a matching set of rings on top…

“Besides…take it from me.. “ – Bea added, matter-of-factly. “Family is not just what you came from…it can also be the one you choose, the one you make for yourself…”

She thought of Franky and Maxine and everyone else she’s come to know and love more than her own parents ever did…

“You’re my family.”

And when Allie’s gaze peered into her own again with that same brand of raw conviction as she spoke the words _she_ couldn’t give to her then, tears swelled up in Bea's eyes..

All along, she’s felt the same…

And Bea never once dreamed she would.

“Y-you’re my family, too.”

This time, the right words came for her, too..

She had never been more grateful for a do-over…

“So where do we go from here…?” – Bea asked, watching Allie’s spellbound glance travel from their joined hands onto her lap then back to her…

“Wherever you want…”

“How about we stay here…just for a little bit?”

“Of course…” – she whispered, tenderly, sealing her promise with a soft kiss on Bea’s cheek. “We can stay here for as long as you want…”

“How does forever sound?”

“I think I can work with that…”

With a vibrant smile lighting up her features, she laid her head back down on Bea’s shoulder in comfort and solace, releasing a breath she had no idea she’s been holding….and for how long. She rubbed her thumb over her knuckles slowly again, watching, realizing…

They fit perfectly…when Allie never felt like she fit anywhere.

Maybe she’s just been looking in all the wrong places.

But this, right here, felt like the right one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go, guys..phew. For everyone who managed to stick with me so far (heroically, if I may add), I love you and thank you for being here. :) As always, if you have any questions/suggestions/comments, never hesitate to share. I reply like a snail but eventually I do, I promise.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And alas...we are here. This deserved a proper send-off so I hope you enjoy the extra-length. 
> 
> If you have the time, I strongly advise re-reading chapter 3 before this.

Bea didn’t know how long she sat there, body entangled with Allie’s, so closely knit together it was almost impossible to tell where one’s curves started….and the other’s ended. Their quiet, slowed down pulses, seamlessly linked together was the only touch of sound occasionally filling the silent. It was all that mattered now. She couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else, not even the two missed calls from Franky the blonde gently reminded her of…

Only when Allie nudged her twice did she react…

She took the phone from her hands and, with a dismissive head shake, laid back down against her shoulder, ignoring the interruption.

Because she had never known more calm and harmony than now.

Not even Doyle could take that away from her.

She finally understood how Allie must’ve felt then – so haunted, so scarred, battling gruesome nightmares yet somehow finding comfort in a stranger’s arms, of all places…

Then again, she was never _just_ a stranger to Allie…

Then again, she always meant _more_ to Allie than she could have even imagined in her wildest dreams…

Now, Bea was allowing herself to feel it in return, what _she_ felt then. It washed over her like a welcome slumber after a lifetime of insomnia. That similar brand of weakness she recognized from that same fateful night when Allie laid her head on her shoulder and her heart in her palm came back, too..

Even from that angle, despite the lack of motion from the warm body beside her, Bea felt her wide awake, listening to the silence and maybe hearing so much more than she ever could. Her senses were rapidly shutting down in the best possible way, only focusing on the sound of Allie’s quiet breaths above her ear, almost selectively, as if it was the only noise that ever mattered…

She didn’t check the time. For minutes on end.

Allie didn’t, either.

It felt like it stopped.

And maybe the outside world was still following its frenzied, disorderly pace…but theirs no longer did. They were on an entirely different timeline now.

After all the running, it led Bea right where she was meant to be.

As always, she wasn’t the only one.

But her earlier suspicions weren’t that far off - Allie _was_ more aware now, more observant. And as she felt her shift a little just to cast an all-knowing look around the office, Bea could picture the wheels turning in her head…

She wasn’t wrong. Allie _was_ figuring something out, alright…

Something she maybe knew all along.

“You know…” – the blonde murmured…”I was right, Bea.”  

“Hmm?” 

A very drowsy, lazy whisper followed…

If only Bea could see the way she was being seen right now…

“Don’t doze off on me…” – Allie traced the side of her jaw with her lips, right hand sliding from her shoulder down to her forearm, pulling her even closer. “Sleepy head…”

Still no response…

Second time around, the flower girl nudged her side, playfully. The brilliant light in her smile could have rivaled a sunrise in July. Bea mumbled something incoherently under her breath like the stubborn child she was, pretending she didn’t hear a thing…

“I have a reputation to maintain, you know, this never happened to me before--“

“I am not, _Cassanova…”-_ Bea grumbled…with actual words this time, partially muffled by Allie’s frame. “You can relax, your street cred is intact. I was just thinking.”

“Your thinking is too loud…” – Allie mocked her tone…“It’s distracting.”

“For the last time, Allie…that’s not even _how_ my voice sounds.”

Another round of childish whining…and the redhead leaned back to see her better.

Mission accomplished - round one goes to Novak.

“What were you right about, again?”

“That you belong here, blend right in.”

“With the flowers?”

“And me, _clueless._ “ – Allie giggled like a schoolgirl. “That’s when I fell in love with you.”

“W-what?”

Bea shifted in her seat, still only half-awake, confusion plastered onto her every feature.

“That’s when I…” – Allie added, lifting her head to see her better, too. “That’s when I knew…”

Because up until that point, flowers were the epitome of beauty to her…because she had nothing to rival them, challenge them even..

**_Kinda look like you belong here, Bea. Blend right in._ **

**_Thank you…?_ **

**_It’s a compliment, I promise._ **

Until she saw Bea in that same space and it changed her entire definition. But flowers weren’t just _that_ to her, they were more than beauty, grace or even _love…_

They were also her preferred method of communication…masked communication, too.

And Bea was finally catching up.

“So t-the..the red rose—“

“…was me saying **_I’m falling for you_** in my own language without actually saying it? Bingo.”

And maybe she had her suspicions before…but hearing it from Allie’s lips was a whole new ball game. Because it was only the _second_ time she walked in here….and only the _first_ time she talked to the flower girl alone.

“So the beach, when w-we…the coffee…the art thing--“

“Was me saying **_I’m giving you my heart_** _?_ ”

Not only was she catching up, Bea was also realizing something _else_ , something she couldn’t believe she hasn’t until now.

Allie had more than just _one_ method of masked communication…

“Hold on…so that means t-the…when we were in your office, the pinkie thing--”

“Was me saying **_I don’t want to lose you_** in my very dorky way, without words?”

If she didn’t need to know so much more, Bea could have wiped that all-knowing, proud smirk off her face with her own two hands…or maybe lips, too, while she was at it.

“I did leave you a hint, though…” – Allie cleared her throat, visibly amused... “I distinctly remember telling you - **_Don’t wander too far_** …”

A new epiphany struck Bea with the force of a lightning - because Allie wasn’t lying, she _did_.

She said those words to her before she left her office…

**_Well then, say no more. I’ll go get those prints for ya real quick, don’t wander too far._ **

Because she didn’t want the redhead to go away just yet, she couldn’t let her go…

**_Just… don’t wander too far, okay?_ **

**_It’s time for the toasts soon, so don’t wander too far…again._ **

And two times on the beach…because even if Allie knew she was hurting, she walked away and left her alone with her thoughts…

But she _ached_ to do the opposite…and she was trying to tell her.

All along, Allie wanted to stay.

All along, Allie had told her _so much_ …and she thought she knew everything.

As it turned out, Bea still didn’t know half of it.

“…A bunch of times. Y’know… don’t swim too far away from me? Sea-horses? Analogies? Seriously, Bea, keep up.”

By this point, Bea had already untangled herself from Allie’s embrace and was staring at her like she suddenly grew two heads, five separate sets of limbs _and_ a tail.

”B-but that was…that was only the second time we ever talked to each other…”

How could Allie have fallen in love with her…so early? How could she have… _known?_

“Well high-five yourself then, _charmer_ —“

_Charmer?_

She was a pile of nerves and awkward that day and this drop-dead gorgeous woman (in all understandings of the phrase) chose _her_ , fell in love with _her.._.of all people. How was that even possible, by any laws of the universe? She still couldn’t get used to the thought. And maybe she’ll never understand why, either.

But as Allie looked at her once more, loving dark blue eyes twinkling with a teasing spark she only ever wore for her, there was nothing but pure fondness reflected in Bea. The blonde opened her mouth once or twice to speak again…but under the sheer _weight_ of it, nothing came out…

Bea was seeing Allie in a whole new light now, perhaps even brighter than the previous one…

 _No one_ else would have gone through all that trouble to relate to her, in a spoken or unspoken manner. _No one_ ever graced her with that kind of an effort before. And ever since the day they met, nothing Allie has done towards her has been unintentional or devoid of meaning…just like her.

“S-so all this time you were…” – Bea choked, unshed tears welled up in her eyes. “Talking to me?”

It was _all_ Allie did…because you don’t always need words to speak.

Not then…and definitely not now.

“Waiting for me?” - she grabbed her hand, unaware of the tremble in hers.

_To catch up to you?_

“I’ll always wait for you.” – Allie nodded solemnly, laying a kiss atop of their joined hands, punctuating her promise.

_Forever if I had to._

Bea thought they waited long enough…

“But that’s not why I did all of these things…so you’ll feel like you _had_ to come to me. “

It felt like an important distinction…for her.

“I just wanted you to know you had someone to come to if you ever…needed to..y’know..?”

And Bea finally understood why – Allie wanted her to read between the lines, to hear her…on her own terms. And even if Bea never did, that would have been okay, too…

“That I wanted to be that someone for you. But only if you did, too.”

Allie would have still loved her even if she didn’t…

Bea swallowed hard, throat closing in like sandpaper against any words she thought she had lingering there. One by one, they were vanishing into nothing. And soon enough, that painful echo of regret, one she was so accustomed to called back, casting an ever-lasting shadow on her memories…

She wished she could have caught on sooner. She had to wonder then just _how_ much she hurt Allie…what if it was a lot more than she thought?

“And I messed up so much today…I’m sorry I snapped at you, Bea, that was so childish--“

And yet…. _she_ was apologizing.

When it should be the other way around.

“No. “ – Bea shook her head in disapproval. “You were hurt, _I_ hurt you--“

“It wasn’t because I thought you didn’t want me back, I’m not that needy…I just…” – Allie’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, anxiously. “I just thought you didn’t want me in your life at all anymore…”

_And I still wanted you in mine._

“I would…I would never want you out of my life, you _have_ to know that—“

_Don’t you…?_

“It’s fine, Bea, water under the bridge now, don’t worry--“

“No.” – Bea brought her close, circling her hands around Allie’s shoulders with a grip so tight she feared she’d break her…but she’d die before she’d let her go.

Little did she know - it was the opposite.

Bea was putting her back together.

“No, listen to me…”– the redhead pulled away just to kiss her on the forehead, cheeks and every little crease in between that her lips could touch in frenzied devotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Mouth parted in a soft gasp, every frantic gesture of Bea’s stole every word Allie thought she had on the tip of her tongue, too…

She was wrong. She had _nothing_ now.

“And I don’t want to.”

Because it was Bea’s way of saying she saw a future with her…

Allie melted…

“D-do you mean that? Because it’s been a crazy day, I can understand if you—“

“Of course I do…”

She did - the blonde could see it so vividly…and that turned on the floodgates for her, too...

And when Bea reached out and wordlessly wiped her tears, only more came…

“I do…?”

But she couldn’t miss that golden opportunity, either…

Bea rolled her eyes...

“You won’t let that go, will you… _Ms._ Novak?”

“Ask me again in 3-5 business days--“

“You _really_ need to get your own words, Allie…”

A cheeky smirk rose to Allie’s lips…

She wasn’t planning on it…

“And a vocal coach…” – Bea added, sternly, prompting the blonde’s smirk to stretch even wider. “Because that is _not_ how my voice sounds..”

“Mmm…” - Allie nuzzled into her hair, then sucked on her pulse point, gently…”Maybe you should give me some private lessons then…”

“Y-you wish…”

“I actually do, I just said it, keep up, Bea.”

Bea fixed her collar, nervously.

“You know, I… I couldn’t get you out of my head since the day we met.”

“S-so when you said you remembered…”

“ ** _I also remember you?”_**   what I really meant was….” ** _I couldn’t stop thinking about you_** _”?_ Bingo…again. You’re getting good at this.”

“God, Allie …” – Bea sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip with something akin to _shame_. “I had no idea you…I’m so sorry, I…”

“You still don’t see it…” – Allie asked, rhetorically. “Do you…?”

“See what?”

“How amazing you are.”

With a self-conscious tilt of her head, Bea shifted in her seat then looked down to the floor. She still had to work on taking a compliment…luckily for her, Allie was dead-set on teaching her.

She already taught her more than anyone else.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to kiss you then?”

Bea didn’t know half of it, alright, judging by the way her head just jerked up again in disbelief…

“Y-you wanted to?”

“Like I never wanted anything else...”

Allie watched her, solemnly...

All the while, more shades of confusion blossomed on Bea’s face, each brighter than the previous one. A fake-cough from a certain beaming blonde came like clockwork, followed by an honest, affectionate…

“… _idiot.”_

Because Allie had seasonal allergies and all.

“H-hey—“

“You’re _my_ idiot, too, though, aren’t ya?”

“I’m no one’s idiot.”

“Yeah, you are…” – the flower girl pinched her cheek, playfully. “You’re mine.”

Bea wouldn’t argue against that in a million years…

“You were so cute and nervous…” – Allie gushed on, resounding nostalgia slipping into her voice. “I don’t know how I even had a conversation with you. It was all I could think about.”

Then again, kissing Bea was all she thought about for half the time they’ve known each other…

“R-really?” 

So she wasted no time, she did just that. She pressed her lips onto hers long, hard and messy…now that she was allowed, she didn’t want to stop…

"Yeah…”

Bea was _still_ not used to this side of Allie, the one that takes charge when she’s usually so sweet and mellow. She didn’t mind it, perhaps even welcomed it…because her body only ever reacted to Allie and Allie _only_ the way it did now…

It didn’t scare her. Maybe it was the opposite.

Maybe it was exciting in all the ways a first love was supposed to be…all the ways books and movies and songs talked about...all the ways she thought were straight-up bullshit….until now.

 _Everything_ was new with her. And new with Allie _couldn’t_ be frightening…not when you don’t fear the unknown.

And something about the blonde’s endearing forwardness encouraged her to return the favor…

“Well y-you…. _you_ made me nervous.”

“I did…?”

“Y-yeah…”

Still recovering from that mind-blowing kiss, Bea shook her head then fidgeted with her sleeves on her lap. And when her gaze shifted to Allie’s desk, a half-smile made its way onto her lips. She saw herself down to the last detail, from where she sat, to what she wore…

She remembered it like it happened yesterday…

“Because y-you….you said you looked exhausted…”

So was Allie.

Much like then, Bea was going….s _omewhere_ again. And this time, Allie knew exactly where. Because she was right there with her. Wordlessly, the flower girl took hold of her hand…the same way she did then…

_Pinkie promise…so you know I mean business._

“B-but all I could think was...”

With glistening eyes, Bea moved, loving gaze shifting past joined hands just to find Allie again…

“She is so beautiful.”

Maybe Allie didn’t know half of it either…

Because she was right there with her that day….but she never knew _that_ crossed her mind, never knew _how_ she was seen all along, too…

“I couldn’t say it. I wanted to, I…”

“It’s alright.” – Allie reassured with a soft kiss to her temple. “You still talked to me, even when you didn’t say anything.”

“I did…?”

“More than you know.”

A long moment of silence ensued…one of the many that didn’t feel charged with anything but connection, comfort and maybe a touch of nostalgia. Bea was rapidly realizing she only ever enjoyed silence with a handful of people before – Maxine, her daughter and Franky, on the odd occasions she shut up for longer than 0.02 seconds…

It was nice.

Surprisingly, _she_ was the one to break it this time around, without meaning to, not entirely _._ But she couldn’t help herself. Sooner rather than later, a giddy smile spread all over Bea’s face, one that seemed _incredibly_ out of place on her.

“What’s up with you _, smiley?”_

“Nothing…”

Despite her best efforts to suppress her laugh, Bea was failing spectacularly…

Allie scanned her like a hawk, _suspiciously…_

“Allow me to rehash - what’s going on with you…. _smiley?”_

“Seriously, stealing my nicknames now, too?”

Bea didn’t mind…because, from this point on, whatever was hers.. was Allie’s, too.

She wanted to share everything with her.

“Come on, spit it out, what’s up with that smile—“

Maybe it was just Allie making her happy.

“Nothing.”

“I can feel it mocking me.”

And something else. _Definitely_ something else.

With every passing second, Bea’s grin stretched wider…

This time, she had to _physically_ bite her lip not to laugh.

“Oh, I see what you’re thinking.” – Allie rolled her sleeves, rising up to the unspoken challenge. “Alright, Bea, hit me with your best shot--“

“You sure you want that?”

“I can take it.”

“Alright…” – Bea cleared her throat. “God, Allie…I can’t believe you were talking to me in…code.”

“Is that all you got?”– Allie mock whispered, then shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “Pfft, so weak. Told you I’m not good with words. I wasn’t lying—“

But Bea had another ace up her sleeve…

 “…. like the world’s biggest….and I mean _biggest_ nerd.”

Check and mate.

Allie was still _trying to_ glare. Though, by now, she was starting to suspect that was an impossible feat around her current company.

Attempt #7325? Failed.

“Still _not_ offended, Bea.” – Allie dodged that scorching non-insult with an index finger in the air, defending her title. “Need I remind you nerds created the best things in the world…including _The_ Netflix?”

“For…other nerds to enjoy…”

“I am so pushing you off the couch…”

“And rave about…to their nerd friends…”

“I’m doing it, Bea—“

The redhead was not in the least threatened…and maybe _she_ had a speech to finish, too.

“Wait, do nerds even have friends or did you make them all up?”

“Why did I give her red roses?”

“… Fletch, Ruby, they’re not real people, are they?”

“…oh no, even your imaginary friends are nerds…aren’t they?”

With an annoyed (and affectionate) eye-roll, Allie grabbed her by the collar smoothly and kissed her on the lips.

“Shut up…”

If Bea had one ace up her sleeve, on a regular day, Allie had at least 12…which was why her mouth shifted away, ghosting over Bea’s earlobe deliberately slow, stealing just enough of her breath to keep her witty comebacks at bay…

“You _will_ watch Netflix with me even if I have to cuff you..”

_(Still not helping yourself, 50 shades of Novak)_

“Unless you’re into that and this isn’t a threat, in which case I take it back—“

Bea smacked her on the arm…

“Ouch…hit a nerve again?”

When Bea tried to strike her again, Allie stopped her merciless assault on her noodle arm with a soft, chaste kiss to her hand, melting her instantly…

The redhead (reluctantly) reconsidered…

“So uh…now that _I_ was embarrassingly honest….what about you?”

“What about me?”

“When were you…” - Allie trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “ _Novak-ed_ …?”

If there was a pillow in here, Bea would have used this precise moment to throw it at her face…

Or maybe cover her own.

“Jesus, _Franky Doyle_ …”

A few blocks away from here, the newly-wed evoked got struck by a hiccup, followed by a coughing fit. Seasonal allergies and all…

“Aww, she’s getting shy on me again…”– Allie squished her reddening cheeks like you’d do with a baby. “You’re so cute right now.”

“Shut up or no flowers once you’re dead.”

Correction - a very _threatening_ baby.

“My lips are sealed.”

With a faraway, gentle sigh, Bea stared out the window, searching for answers she wasn’t sure she had, picking apart thought after thought until seconds stretched into minutes..

And she still had… _nothing_.

If the blonde was taking her prolonged silence as a bad sign, she wasn’t saying anything. If Allie could pinpoint the exact moment she fell in love with her, right here in this office, right when she saw her next to the flowers, Bea couldn’t.

Unlike the blonde, _she_ had no idea when and how it started, all she had were bits and pieces, fractured memories that kept her lying awake…or maybe awoke her altogether…

_One more thing…for you._

_Hi…are you sure you’re alright?_

_Don’t go..stay with me, please._

_Thank you…again._

_By the way…_. _you look beautiful tonight._

Culminating with moments it became impossible to dismiss..even for her.

_Do you trust me? Not a trick question…I promise._

_It’s spending half of your life surrounded by flowers and then…seeing someone walk in and realizing they’re more beautiful than every single one of them._

_I just want you to know you didn’t deserve it. Any of it._

_I’m in love with you._

But it might as well have been the first day she walked in here....guess it was another thing she’ll never know. But maybe Bea was fine with that after all. Because _whatever_ that moment was, it brought her here, now.

It was _all_ that mattered.

“Hey…” – Allie’s whisper and gentle tug on her arm pulled her out of her trance. “Are you okay…?”

Still only barely jolted awake, Bea shook her head in nonverbal reassurance…

“Where’d you go just now?”

She hadn’t even realized how long she’s been pondering upon her answer…

“Daydreaming about someone…?”

Nor did she notice her enthralled look and that revealing smile gracing her features…

But Allie did and she was pretty sure a part of her fell in love all over again.

“Me, maybe…?”

That…and her ego couldn’t fit through the world’s largest door right now.

“You _are_ Novak-ed, right? Just checking, y’know, cause this would be really awkward for me if you weren’t--“

“Shut up.”

With a low mutter, Bea dipped her head in a hopeless attempt to hide her blush…

It wasn’t working…not by a long-shot.

“You don’t have to answer that, you know. I was just messing with you—“

“No I…I want to, I just…” – Bea trailed her fingers across Allie’s arm, noting every mellow sigh she made in response, burning it into memory.  “I don’t know..”

“That’s okay—“

“But maybe…your not-at-all stupid speech had something to do with it?”

“Aww…so you _are_ a romantic. “ – Allie grinned almost… _triumphantly_. “This is Christmas Eve for me all over again—“

Maybe a new version of Christmas Eve to make up for the million other, disastrous ones.

The flower girl was already warming up to it.

“Shut up.”

“She still thinks she can tell me what to do…”– Allie tapped her nose twice, asserting… _dominance._ “That’s cute. “

“Shut up—“

“Still not the boss of me, Bea--” – the blonde added in a sing-song voice…

“Seriously, Allie, shut up.”

“What are you gonna do…. _make me?”_

She didn’t know if it was Allie’s daring voice and mocking laugh rattling her on purpose, _everything_ she just relieved still swirling in her brain and heart, _asking_ for release, whatever touch of adrenaline she still had from her earlier momentum or even… _that_ outfit again...

Before she even knew what she was doing, she was already pinning Allie down to the couch…

And maybe it was that quiet gasp that just slipped out of her lips when she touched both of her wrists, then lifted her hands above her head or seeing Allie flush underneath her but _something_ changed… and it came rushing over her _hard_ , something she couldn’t fight.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she was straddling her then kissing every inch of her plump lips and neck with a hunger she never knew she had, raw and instinctual, like Allie was desert rain and she’s been wandering in scorching heat for days…

She couldn’t stop, _didn’t_ stop, not until a low, throaty moan fought her way out of Allie in return and a set of nails sunk into her leather jacket…

And when the sound passed onto her, she didn’t just hear it this time, she _felt_ it…

“Does that…” – Bea tucked a loose strand of hair behind Allie’s ear, making her shudder. “Does that answer your question?”

“Y-yeah..”

Still panting, the redhead pulled away just to get a better glimpse of her face…

The blonde’s expression seemed almost… _pained._

“I’m sorry I…I don’t know…w-what..”

_Came over me…_

“What just happened?” – Allie asked in between heavy breaths, reaching out to fix her hair, too.

_To me._

Bea looked down…

“Y-yeah…am I…am I hurting you?”

Only now did she notice her right leg pressed firmly against Allie’s core…who was now biting down hard on her bottom lip.

Bea leaned back clumsily like someone just tazered her…

“S-sorry..”

All-knowing and all-wise as always, the blonde caught both of her shoulders, smiling just a little, before lifting herself up so they were on eye-level now…

“You…” – Allie kissed her on the neck… “Could...” – then on the lips… “Never.” – ending with her forehead.

“You sure about that?”

It was etched in double meaning.

And no matter how much she kept fumbling with that jacket or how quiet she said it, that hint of guilt still leaked into her voice.

Allie heard.

Allie _knew._

Which was why she had to make her point in a different way, one that would hopefully convey what Bea needed to hear…and _feel._ Wordlessly, the flower girl inched closer, one hand linking around her waist as she straddled her in return, mimicking her move with a lot less fire than she just did…

“Did I hurt you just now?"

“N-no..”

“So do you believe me now?”

“I guess…”

“Bea…” – Allie let out a concerned whisper, threading a hand through her hair…“You still don’t believe me, do you?”

By now, the redhead was fidgeting with her jacket’s zipper, a myriad of thoughts poking at her brain, asking for attention all at once. She was finding it _so hard_ to articulate what she meant.

Then again, words weren’t her strong suit, either…

“Are you sure? Because I want you to tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“It would be a privilege to be wounded by you, _m’lady._ ”

Predictably so, the blonde just _had_ to use her Victorian Era voice just for the occasion. Because she was not capable of being serious for longer than 0.0002 seconds. Bea was only halfway amused – this time around, it wasn’t a mask. Her humor was genuine – _awfully_ timed but genuine.

“I’m serious, I won’t…get mad or anything. It’s just…I don’t want to hurt you again.”

_Like everyone else did…_

At last, a light bulb turned on in Allie’s head…

“Hey…come here.” – the blonde pulled her into a loving hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you know.”

“Course I did—“

“No, you _didn’t._ “

Bea opened her mouth to protest…

Allie’s stern look made her reconsider…

“How about this…how about we make a pact?” – the flower girl proposed, sweetly. “Try not to hurt each other…least not on purpose?”

All Bea could give was a shaky nod in response…

From this point on, she would never…

“And if we do it without meaning to…we tell the other? No matter how hard it is?”

She’d have to work on that..

But she _would_ try.

“Pinkie promise….?” – Allie laced her pinkie finger with hers, not without making a dramatic spectacle out of it first, of course…”So we mean business?”

“Alright…”

“You sure, Bea?”

“Do you see me pulling my hand away?”

“There’s no take-backs on pinkie promises, y’know—“

“So I’m not taking it back, then…pinkie promise.”

 _Now_ they were linked together…

“For the record….you didn’t hurt me just now, _silly._ I mean if that’s what you think it is, please never stop hurting me—“

Despite Allie’s heartfelt chuckle and that touch of childish mischief glowing in her eyes, Bea didn’t seem convinced. Concern was still embedded onto every switch in her expression, dancing under every crease…

“You were….w-well, you know..”

_Turning me on so much I need a cold shower right now?_

Bea was also confused…

 _Very_ confused.

“What?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Apparently, yeah…

“You were turning me on…” – Allie stifled a laugh, then laid a soft kiss on her lips. “Doofus.”

So _, that’s_ a first.

Bea was staring into a neutral point in the distance, wheels turning in her head, still yet to put two and two together…

“O-oh…”

She’s never looked more adorable.

“What, didn’t think you could? Do you even own a mirror? When’s your birthday? I’m getting you one--“

As always, Allie read her mind…and her insecurities…and everything in between.

“Uh…it’s kinda what you’ve been doing since the day we met.”

_And every night ever since._

With an awkward pause, the flower girl rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, her confession coming out oddly… _earnest_ even if she probably aimed for sexy. The nuance was completely lost on a certain redhead who was _still_ scanning her like she just landed on planet Earth…

“B-but…”

_How?_

“I wasn’t like…trying to do anything to--”

“You don’t have to.”

 _Everything_ Bea did turned her on…including this.

And this self-conscious, adorable puddle of oblivious _still_ didn’t know…

“R-really?”

“Seriously, Bea, I could _not_ have made it anymore obvious.”

This time, Allie said it in a comically aggravated tone, crossing her arms…

Maybe she needed to work on her signals…some fireworks might help.

“Franky called me thirsty…remember? She wasn’t talking about water, y’know.“

Bea’s glance shifted between Allie’s features quizzically again and again…until realization dawned on her like a sledgehammer. So _that’s_ why Allie looked so flushed then. And like the bright one she was, she assumed she was sick or something. Bea didn’t remember doing anything… _special_ to bring it on.

And maybe that was the puzzling part she couldn’t quite reconcile, the fact that _she_ could do that to someone…without even trying? Someone found her attractive…in _that_ way? Someone like Allie nonetheless. It still didn’t feel real.

The fact that they were both relieving that particular day now wasn’t helping Allie’s… _present_ situation in the slightest. Neither was Bea’s angry show currently playing in her mind again.

Unlike last time, the blonde’s head wasn’t even in the gutter anymore…it just _became_ the gutter.

“You should really get those eyes checked out, I know a guy—“

“Oh shut your mouth already.”

“What are you gonna do….?” - Allie licked her lips…innocently, of course. “ _Make me_ again?”

“For crying out loud—“

“I happen to appreciate that method of persuasion, y’know, just sayin—“

“What’s a girl gotta do to be persuaded some more around here?”

That taunting, contagious smile…

Bea could really, _really_ use a pillow to throw at Allie’s face right about now…

“I _swear_ to God, Allie--“

“Okay, okay, that was the last one.”

It wasn’t.

However, on Allie’s seemingly endless list of skills, acting landed on top. The blonde could play the part for a little while longer and quite well at that. She put her hands up in surrender, her way of calling a limited truce, allowing a moment of silence to pass between them again, perhaps even settle…until she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Now _Allie_ seemed to grin wildly for no reason whatsoever, showing off her pearly whites like a cartoon character…

Bea pondered upon maybe kicking her out of her own office, after all…

With that plan in motion and the right angle to attack, she was just about to make a move when her beaming companion broke the quiet again…

“Hey…” – Allie slid her hand up and down Bea’s arm in circular motions, batting her eyelashes…angelically….” _Honey?”_

“What now… _” -_  Bea bit back, sarcastically. “ _Darling?”_

“Could you maybe boss me around like that sometime?”

“Y-you are so weird, I swear--“

Bea hid her face in her hands, self-consciously, finding it a lot warmer than it should be against her own touch…maybe she was just …running a fever.

“Make sure you use the voice, right…because that was…”

Whatever fever _that_ was…it seemed to be spreading…

“Damn…”

Because the blonde was now pretending to cool herself down with an imaginary fan…

Sadly for her, she _still_ couldn’t whistle.

“You can threaten me too as long as you make it sound sexy and you don’t set me on fire..”

By this point, Bea was blushing furiously…

“I mean, not…literally. I have a business to run, Bea. But I’m sure you can find other ways to bring the heat—“

“Why do I love you, again?”                               

With a rhetorical, barely audible mumble, her attention shifted to the floor…

“Mmmm…you were so hot that day, I swear.”

Until Allie purred in her ear, huskily…

Question answered.

“You’re always hot to me, by the way.”

Second time around, Allie said it a lot softer and so much more tender-hearted and Bea did a double take on sight. Because she had to do wonder…how did she go from _that_ ….to _this_ in under two seconds?

Never mind - she was into both.

“Ready to go…?”

“Y-yeah, sure. If we stayed any longer we might as well move here…”

Allie wouldn’t mind…

In all honesty, by their second encounter, she already picked Bea’s side of the bed…

“Well in that case…might have to charge you rent..”

“Oh, really?”

“Well…I _did_ mention I can be persuaded. There are _other_ payment options I’m open to discuss-“

“God, you’re a pervert.”

“No, _idiot,_ we could join businesses, I sell them flowers, you make ‘em pretty, they torture us both at the same time, win-win—“

Come to think of it, even if she said it as a joke…it wasn’t a half-way bad proposition.

Bea wouldn’t mind being her business partner, either…

“You can’t make a bridezilla look pretty, Allie…it’s a myth.”

If you asked her, it was like putting make-up on the Loch Ness monster…she made a living out of it, sure, but still…

“You can make ‘em think that, _babe._ ”

Allie _was_ a wise sage, alright…

And that small pet name that just passed her lips wasn’t lost on a particular flustered someone..

“Come on…help a girl out, will ya?” – the blonde blew a stubborn strand of hair from her eyes, then extended her arm in a fake-exhausted move, urging Bea to pull her up. “I can’t feel my legs…you know, we should have a rule, _no falling asleep on Allie_ —“

“Are you calling me fat?”

Hand hovering over the door handle, just about to walk out first, Allie swiftly turned around at the sound of her voice.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Are you?”

Devilish smirk tugging at her mouth, Allie latched onto Bea’s wrist, holding her in place, before pining her against the wooden surface, instead. Her mouth opened in protest to no avail…because whatever she was about to say got cut off when the blonde took both of her hands and lifted them above her head.

Because Allie was not a competitive child at all.

That…and she had yet to acquire her own moves…

In her defense, she just thought Bea’s were better.

“I would never… not to your face at least—“     

“God, you’re such a--“

Bea rolled her eyes, not making a single attempt to break free, as Allie’s lips came crashing down onto hers, in one breath firm and unyielding, pushing and pulling, at times lazily sliding over hers because she couldn’t focus…because she was smiling too much.

“Sorry I um…sorry.”

“W-what was that for?”

“It’s the jacket, I swear, sorry, just couldn’t help it. “

_So take it off then._

“Least these skinny arms still got it, eh--”

_It’s not the jacket, it’s you._

“Pretty sure I let you do that.”

_Do it again._

"So you let me even the score on purpose? Oh wow, Bea if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me--”

“So what, this a competition to you?”

“Mmm…depends on what the prize is…” – Allie scratched her chin, feigning a thoughtful pose… “If it’s you, I plan on winning.”

_As if you’d even have to try._

“O-okay, okay…”

In between labored breaths, Bea snuck out from under the blonde’s grasp, biting her bottom lip to stifle a moan when Allie’s mouth pressed on that particular sensitive spot on her neck, knowing _exactly_ what it did to her…

“You won…”

With superhuman efforts, she pulled herself from Allie altogether, walking ahead of her, that slight tremble in her knees making every step feel heavy…

“Put that in your stupid diary, now get off.”

_I probably did._

Same Allie who had to bite her lip, cheeks and tongue not to say that out loud.

“You know what? I won’t even apologize, _you_ started this, _missy_..” - the cheeky blonde motioned between them, as Bea blankly stared back over the shoulder.

“Oh, really, started what exactly?”

“I was just minding my business… working on a weekend like the model citizen I am..” – Allie trailed off smugly, walking closer to her again purposefully slow. “When this rude redhead broke down my door and kissed the hell out of me. You owe me a new door, by the way. So really…it’s _your_ fault. I think _you s_ hould apologize to _me_.”

Despite the competitive streak in her gestures, Allie still maintained an intense, fiery stare. Bea suspected that was her version of _authoritative_ …a very poor one at that. She crossed her arms, steps reaching a screeching halt inches away from a very unimpressed Bea…

“Well? Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

Who graciously ignored the deliberate seductiveness in her tone, too.

 _Now_ Allie was offended.

“Nothing, _really?”_

Instead, she silenced her with an index finger to her lips, unaware of how sensual she was being…then again, half the time she didn’t even have to try.

“Shh…do you hear that, Allie?” – Bea asked, rhetorically, then gazed around the room, tracing an invisible fly…“It’s the sound of me ignoring you right now.”

Allie _tried_ to open her mouth…

Bea shushed her, placing her entire palm over it now.

“It’s a beautiful sound, you know…” – she explained, matter-of-factly. “Just gotta stop and listen. By the way, this other blonde just asked me out and it’s rude to show up late so…if you’ll excuse me.”

Turning on her heel, Bea removed her hand with a subtle wink and walked away…

“Is she better at floral arrangements? Tell me…” – the blonde caught her by the waist, inquiring almost… _fearfully_.  “I can take it. I need to know, Bea, it’s important--“

She was dead serious. It was a valid concern.

“Did she give you red roses? Because I _will_ kill her.”

With an affectionate eye-roll, Bea slipped from her grasp again, hiding her smile…

“Hey, don’t walk away from me, since when are you into blondes? You have terrible taste, Bea-”

“Listen, she Aguilera? Cause that would really hurt. For her, I mean, I _will_ break her face. I can sneak past security, I have ninja skills too—“

“Don’t laugh, these hands can do it, hey, look at me, where are your manners, _girlfriend?“_

Bea froze..

_What?_

Faltering-ever-so-slightly, she turned around…

“Girlfriend..?”

“D-do you not watch any rap videos?” – Allie backpedaled, flashing her an awkward half-smile. “It’s a way of addressing female friends. Y-you really need to turn on that TV of yours--“

The more she stumbled all over her words, the more Bea closed in on her until they were back in each other’s space completely. Gaze softening, she watched her ramble like always, sensing her raging nerves and hesitation…

 _Adorable_ hesitation.

“You’re not a friend of mine…”– Bea sighed tenderly, giving her hand a light squeeze, thumb grazing over every knuckle. “Least right now you’re not.”

Allie stared, dumbly, mouth parting into an unspoken question…

She really, _really_ wasn’t the brightest flower in the bouquet sometimes…

“And you don’t even have to ask..” – the redhead added, sweetly, linking one hand around her neck.  “Want to know why?”

“Because you’re already _Novak-ed_ so the answer to anything is yes by default..?”

Allie melted, flashing her a hopeful, toothy grin…still waiting…

“Because you suck at this.”

When Bea motioned between them with one arm, withdrew from her and walked away.

“Stick to the flowers, Allie—“

“You’re not as skilled as you think you are, you know—“

Check and mate.

“Oh, you don’t know anything about my skills.”

Allie had her fair share of talents, alright. And maybe she would never win a marathon in life…or be caught _dead_ attending one…but she could out-banter any woman within a ten-mile radius with her eyes closed…including the smirking one calling out to her over her shoulder now.

She could also be very, _very_ persuasive when she wanted to be…

Like _now._

“C’mere.”

One step, one click of heels against the floor and Allie turned her around smoothly, then backed her into the front desk, wiping that all-knowing smirk off her face. A surprised gasp escaped Bea’s chest, as Allie’s hands fisted in her jacket, lips hovering over hers teasingly, almost touching, but not quite…

The blonde dipped her head so their foreheads could touch, instead…

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

With a shuddering breath, Allie stepped back just enough to trace the contours of her lips with her fingers now, stealing her last one in return.

“Only if y-you want to…”

Her glance traveled from Bea down to the floor, feet shuffling against it with the mannerisms of a child once again…because Allie was starting to lose her nerve a little.

“F-feel free to say no..”

Bea thought she was adorable…

She _was_ right before – shy and nervous were her favorite shades of Allie.

“Fair warning - it’s gonna suck like everything else.“

She also happened to disagree.

“….but I don’t snore, I’ll never forget to bring you flowers on your birthday and on every other day and we’ll suffer together.”

And together never sounded better.

“Sounds good to me…for the record, you do snore quite a bit.” – Bea got up on her tip-toes to just to plant a quick kiss to Allie’s cheek, then whispered in her ear. “But that’s why ear-plugs were invented.”

“W-wait, how do you know?”

“Because I stayed with you..”

And she planned on doing it forever.

“Y-you did? You mean when I…”

“Y-yeah..”

“H-how long?”

“How long it took…I just…I wanted to make sure you’d be okay, you know, I wasn’t like…stalking you—“

“But you didn’t….owe me anything…”

Allie was right – she didn’t.

Then _why_ did she feel like she did? Why did she stay?

“Why would you—“

Bea looked away…and suddenly she was back in that darkened room again, where, even in her most troubled and haunted hours, Allie herself was still the only trace of light…

“Y-you didn’t…”– Allie stammered, openly scanning her earnest eyes, unaware of her own filling with tears.  

Because they were _both_ realizing something…at the same time.

“Did you…then?”

“I think maybe that’s when I… “ – Bea’s gaze flickered between those same golden strands of hair she ached to tuck away that night and those parted lips she couldn’t get out of her head for days on end, couldn’t get out of her dreams, either…”But I didn’t even know I did, does that make sense?”

Now…they were both hers.

 _She_ was, too.

“Oddly enough, it does.”

“So…all I had to do was sleep and not say anything…” – Allie trailed off, putting two and two together like a mathematician. “And _that’s_ what got you to fall in love with me? That’s not good news for me right now..”

“W-well I…”– Bea flashed her an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of her neck.. “I wouldn’t exactly put it like that..”

Maybe it was true, what they said about couples – that they mimicked each other’s gestures…

Bea had no idea how many quirks and tics of hers she already borrowed…

“It’s exactly like that. Good thing you’re sleeping with me tonight, huh?” – Allie stuck her tongue out, playfully. “Damn, now _your_ diary is gonna have a field day, Bea—“

“Let’s get out of here, _cheery._ ”

Muttering under her breath, nervous energy following her every move, Bea walked ahead of Allie again, fixing her collar like it decided to tighten out of nowhere.

Even from that angle, the blonde could see her blush – it only made her grin spread.

“Happy to oblige, _m’lady_ —“

“N-not what I meant.”

Bea was starting to catch on double meanings, alright…

And Allie had never been more of a proud momma.

“Ohhh what did you think I thought you meant just now…?”

Her hands tugged on Bea’s waist from behind, lightly pulling her back against her frame. Sensing no resistance, Allie shifted closer, her affectionate voice dropping into a purposeful, sultry whisper in her ear…

“…. _honey?”_

And maybe she said the pet name ironically…but it still warmed a specific someone’s heart - because _that_ was a first, too. No one ever used one, not even jokingly.

“I need to know so I can die happy, don’t deny a woman’s last wish—“

“If you are gonna die, it’s gonna be cuz I killed you myself.”

_….with feelings?_

Maybe Doyle wasn’t wrong after all.

“Fair enough…” – Allie let go, reluctantly putting her hands up in surrender. “You know, you can be really scary when you want to be—“

“And you’re just now realizing that?” – Bea raised an eyebrow, then crossed her arms like the defiant woman-child she could be, too, when she wanted. “Anyways, you interrupted me for the millionth time today so let me rehash what you didn’t let me say. I have to meet up with Franky and you’re gonna suffer with me.”

“Happy to. I’d go anywhere with you.”

It was at that moment she wondered how did she ever live without Allie in her life…because everything from before felt like a blur now, fractured and jagged…everything she _was_ before nothing more than a shadow, a shell of who she was meant to be all along…

Only now did she understand what it meant to be… _whole._

She’d go anywhere with her, too.

“Think we can swing by and get those earplugs after all?” – Bea barely had a chance to ask, when a sneaky blonde embraced her from behind again.

“Mmmm…” – Allie moaned in between kisses to the back of Bea’s neck, one hand tracing her abs underneath her shirt, making her squirm.  “For…the neighbors?”

“N-no, _perv._ ” – Bea shuddered, arching into her hand, feeling her smirk against her collarbone. “You’ll need them with Doyle, trust me.”

Talk about an instant mood killer…

The newly-wed _was_ famous for raining on people’s parades, after all…

“Why?”

With a heavy sigh, Bea turned around, her clouded, equally lustful eyes turning apologetic, overtaken by regret…and _sympathy._

“You’re about to get the best friend speech…I’m so sorry—“

“She still wants to chop off my legs, doesn’t she?”

“Only if you hurt me…”

“She’d have to get in line, then. I’d chop ‘em first.”

Bea swooned….because only _she_ could make that sound romantic.

Or maybe she _was_ Novak-ed after all.

“For real, Bea, I’d do it Saw-style. God, I love that movie.”

“You are so weird, Allie.”

“So much blood…”

“Are you secretly a psycho? Did I just….did I just kiss a psycho?”

“And. You. Loved. It.” – Allie huffed her chest proudly, drawing her back in with a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. “What did you think the flowers in my backyard were for? Aesthetics?”

“So you _are_ hiding bodies there…hold on, is that why you asked me to come over?”

“Yes, you’re next on my list and yes, of course I want to show them to you, _girlfriend.” –_ the blonde tapped her nose, then pinched her cheek, graciously ignoring Bea’s glare. “But that’s more of a fifth date thing, you’re way ahead of yourself now, it’s like asking for my hand in marriage. Whoa, back up a little—“

“What makes you think we’ll even get there?” – Bea scoffed. “Awfully bold of you to assume I’d stand you that much—“

“The bodies or the marriage thing?”

Allie smirked…

Bea rolled her eyes.

“I will show you the bodies, Bea, stop begging. Just say please and we’ll call it a day.”

With a deliberate drop in tone, Bea leaned into her frame on one leg to bridge the height gap, both hands resting over her collar, before lightly pulling her forward by the tie…

“Please, Allie…”

“Mmm…” – Allie paused for dramatic effect, keeping her eyes closed on purpose, too. “What?”

“Please stop talking…” - Bea got up on her tip-toes and kissed her. “I’m begging you.”

“Can I just say one more thing?”

“I have a feeling you will anyway…”

“I…I’m so in love with you…”

Allie sighed, dreamily, then proceeded to gesture theatrically with her arms, hiding her entire nerd face in her hands…

“It’s embarrassing…”

Correction - _blushing_ nerd face.

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

Now she was speaking between her fingers, still only partially revealing her features..

She couldn’t have looked more adorable even if she tried.

“Because I’ll say it a lot…”

And Bea’s heart thing couldn’t have been louder, either.

Oddly enough, it didn’t bother her now. She even welcomed it. Because it only did that for Allie...like it was meant to beat for her. And maybe it was.

Maybe all this time, it’s been waiting for her.

“I’m a talker, I literally never shut up, case you haven’t noticed--“

The rambling blonde was too busy punctuating her words with enthusiastic hand movements to see the way her own eyes flickered with lust and a touch of something else… _uncertainty._

“I mean for someone who’s not good with words, I sure have a lot of ‘em, Bea—“

Thankfully, by now, Bea had not only learned how to shut her up…

She also learned how to reassure her…

“Gimme your hand.”

“You wanna twist mine now? Cause that’s a very and I mean _very_ predictable way to go, Bea—“

“Pinkie promise…so you know I mean business. Because I…I feel the same.“

“Aww…“ - Allie fixed her hair, lovingly, as Bea wrapped her arms around her waist in return, keeping her there. “And she speaks my language now…”

_Marry me._

"God, we are so cheesy, it’s disgusting—“

Allie’s cheese-o-meter probably broke.

She could count at least 25 cheese factories.

“I know, right? If we weren’t us, I’d hate us—“

_Us…_

She liked the sound of that, too.

“You know, Bea…” – Allie added with a smug undertone. “There’s another language I’d love to teach ya sometime, you could say I’m quite a master at it--“

With another blush creeping up her cheeks, Bea shifted so the blonde’s head slid off her shoulder, comically.

“I meant Spanish….” – Allie grumbled, then readjusted herself, still attempting to straighten her crumpled shirt…and failing. “Seriously, get your cabeza out of the gutter already. That’s Spanish for head… because _that’s_ the language I was referring to, just to be clear—“

“Shut up.”

“Still not the boss of me, Bea—“

Bea grabbed her face, then looked at her quizzically, almost _incredulously…_

“I have no idea why I love you.”

An enigma that had yet to be deciphered…

She then tilted her chin from side to side to see her from all angles, while Allie chewed on her lip..

“Mystery’s driving you crazy, huh?”

And when the blonde nodded in mock understanding, Bea sighed…fondly and exasperatedly, all at once, before grabbing her by the collar..

“I am gonna push you through that window, I swear—“

“I guess you could say…” – Allie ran her tongue over her teeth…“It _sucks_ to be you—“

Then surrendered altogether.

“I’m doing it, Allie, don’t push me or I’m pushing _you_ right now—“

“Please not the window display, I worked hard on that..”

The flower girl groaned and whined like a child…whose sand castle just got erased by the waves. In her defense, her sand castles happened to be exquisite.

“It takes effort…and craft, Bea, don’t take that away from me—“

“I’m in love with an idiot.” – Bea stared at the ceiling, asking for salvation from the Lord, then back to Allie. “Unbelievable.”

“Correction – an idiot _and_ a nerd.” – Allie clarified, proudly, like she was owning both labels. “I’m so glad you are. Listen, I would’ve died alone with no lady and 50 cats if you weren’t…”

Despite still halfway fearing for her life, the blonde inched closer, resting her forehead against hers, as a joyous laughter rumbled in her chest…

Bea felt it resonate in her, making her own flare with butterflies…

And the more she listened, the more it made her realize something else….it was one of her favorite sounds in the world now.

“I even had _names_ picked out for ‘em, Bea.”

Foreheads still pressed together, Allie gestured wildly with her arms, celebrating her major achievements in life…again.

“One of them was Allie, might know it as the greatest name ever invented—“

„So an _AllieCat?”_

„And she’s witty, too....”

Gasping dramatically, Allie stepped back just to bow her way, like a gentleman, tipping an imaginary hat...

„Stop ticking all my wife boxes or I’m getting down on one knee right now.”

And maybe the blonde was joking and winking playfully but for a moment there, Bea pictured a lifetime with Allie, _forever_ with Allie...waking up next to her every morning....

„My bones are fragile, Bea, I’m gonna break something but I’d do it for ya--”

She didn’t mind the picture.

„Did I freak ya out? Mission accomplished?”

The opposite....

„Still not too late to back out, overly attached, needy, talks too much, I’m not ticking any boxes right now--"

She was ticking all of them. Boxes Bea didn’t even know she had. So she gave her a look that said - _Keep trying, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me._

Allie finally got the message...the _right_ one.

She didn’t mind the picture, either.

„But really now, what better name for a cat? Allie is great. I can’t think of anything more perfect.”

Bea happened to agree.

“God--”

“Well it _is_ a Godly creation--“

“I still don’t know what I see in you, I swear.”

She did. She also knew what she planned on getting for Allie’s birthday... once she found out when it was.

“Whatever it is, I’m so happy you do. Although…” – the flower girl bit her tongue to stop herself…“I still don’t trust your eyesight, Bea—“

And failed again.

“No worries, though, _blindy,_ still dig ya, visually-impaired and all—“

“I have good enough vision for both, you have the cool factor, we complete each other--“

It was at that precise moment Bea realized Allie wasn’t _just_ an idiot….she was the biggest idiot in all of Sydney, Australia and the world, combined.

“Hey, you like dogs, I could always get you one of those service dogs to guide you around town when I’m not there, make sure you don’t fall on that beautiful face of yours, ‘cause you have the good one, you seen what _I_ gotta work with, it’s depressing—“

Scratch that – the entire universe.

But she was also…. _her_ idiot.

“Come here.”

She tilted her chin mid-speech, wiping that trademark, teasing grin off her face with a slow, languid kiss that may or may not have made Allie’s toes curl..

“W-what was that for?”

When Bea pulled back, an involuntary stutter passed the blonde’s lips…

Next thing she knew, she was shuffling her feet against the floor, shyly...

She got speechless for a moment…a very _rare_ occurrence.

_All that you are._

Bea didn’t answer, instead slid her hands down her shoulders, bringing her to her level again, slowly..

“S-so I can do it again..”

She rolled her eyes, silencing Allie with another kiss, feeling her smile goofily in between.

“For the rest of my life.”

Bea’s heart could have stopped – she liked the sound of _that_ , too.

“Just…feeling charitable today…. _honey_ …”

With one hand around Allie’s neck and the other fumbling with her ridiculously bright tie again, Bea’s glance shifted from her blinding accessory, then back to her…

It had nothing on the glow _she_ wore now.

Allie’s eyes lit up like the world’s brightest show of fireworks.

“Mmm….well in that case…. never stop donating to my cause…. _darling_.” – Allie husked, wrapping her arms around her waist, smoothly. “Listen, I’m a woman in need—“

“Of a beating? Know what, how ‘bout I put you through the door, instead?" – Bea stared over her shoulder, squinting a little to focus on her target. “Closer, too, got a good angle from here--”

“No, not _that_ one, I’m begging you.”

“Why, worked hard on that too, another one of your skills?”

“N-no…”

The blonde’s expression fell, voice dropping into an earnest whisper, eyes instantly softening around the edges while she followed Bea’s gaze. She looked to the door, then back to her, dripping blue skies writing and telling about a million different stories…

“It’s…it’s not that, it’s…”

And when Allie opened her mouth again, her voice cracked but her words wouldn’t…because they were honest, etched in nothing but that same brand of raw conviction she always held for her…

“ _You_ walked through that door. “

_And she says she’s not good with words._

That raw conviction Bea never once felt she deserved...hearing it again only made her eyes fill with tears all the same…it was all the communication she could muster and prayed that was enough.

She didn’t mean it – she knew what _she_ saw in Allie. She just didn’t know what Allie saw in her. But something about the way she was looking at her now almost made her want to see herself through her eyes, learn how to do that little by little everyday…

Because that picture was beautiful.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

So was this one.

And maybe this door was about to close behind them…but a million others were only about to be opened.

A twin set of keys leading them back to the same house...or maybe for the first time in a long time, a home. Fighting over cereal in aisle 7 and remote rights on Sunday evenings...only for one to cave and accept a horror movie just to make the other happy. A graduation. Getting a cat...or a dog...or maybe both because one would cave for the other again. Matching set of rings and a promise of forever.

With Bea nestled by Allie’s side, one arm secured around her waist, they made their way towards the exit, this time, together. At first, it was a romantic, enthralled dance only they knew…until they laughed and bumped into each other like teenagers, like even getting to the door was a competition…

Hands still linked over their shoulders, twin chuckles followed their every move, so warm and tender-hearted, reminiscent of children playing under summertime skies, without a care in the world. Frames ever-so-slightly gravitating towards each other again…and Bea stopped.

Maybe to breathe, maybe to _realize_ …

One inch away from the door, Bea let go of Allie’s hand…

She cast one last look at the artwork behind them and an infinite more back to Allie…

Moving in her space again like there was nowhere else she ever belonged, she treaded her fingers through Allie’s hair tenderly, then tilted her chin upwards, watching her with something similar to _awe_ …

“Hey, Allie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Allie’s smile could light up the whole world.  

It did that to hers.

The sun came up again.

* * *

**FIN.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if I failed to answer them all, I want you to know your comments probably made my day...or my week...or my life. So did your kudos and readership, even if you were shy and didn't say anything (like Bea for 17 chapters lmao). Thank you for being a part of this story (the most important one). 
> 
> This ending came to me down to the last line while I was writing chapter 3 - it's why I asked you guys to re-read it now.  
> It was always my intention for them to mirror each-other and I hope it makes sense why. I might re-visit this story someday, maybe write a different wedding (if you catch my drift) or a one-shot because Bea WILL get Allie a cat, I promise you. #AnAllieCat. But for now, our paths part here. 
> 
> If you have any final thoughts, I'm always eager to listen. No pressure...you don't have to speak...now :)
> 
> \-- eternal


End file.
